Written by: Todd Jensen and Patrick Toman
With contributions by: Kathy Pogge

Story Concept by: Todd Jensen and Patrick Toman

Illustrations by: Jessica Entis

"C'mon, George. We've worked together too long to play these games."

"Okay," he said finally, between forkfuls of noodles out of a take-out box. "I was running a scam and I got found out. The alias I was using is no good and the police are staking out my place." He laughed. "Besides, I really needed a bath. I would've made Vince smell good."

"Hoo boy." Candy rolled her eyes and continued to eat. "Do you need a place to crash?"

"Well, your couch is pretty comfy, but I don't really trust your roomie yet. It's not the Ritz, but I've got a place to go."

"Heck, even I lock my bedroom door around here. I don't know what happened with her procedure but Rita's teeth are getting all pointy."

"Pointy?"

"Like a snake." Candy shuddered.

* * * * *

"A wise warrior considers all options," said Sata.

Goliath absorbed the words of his clanmates while Elisa fumed. "Goliath, you aren't actually considering this, are you?" she said angrily. The big lavender gargoyle turned his attention back to her. "You guys are supposed to be protecting the city, not endangering it! There's got to be another option here."

* * *

"I've never seen them fight like this," commented Fox from where she stood to the other side of her husband. "Angela looks completely bewildered, but Elisa looks ready to draw blood."

"Indeed," agreed Xanatos. "If Goliath had shoes, I wouldn't want to be in them right now."

* * *

Goliath's eyes darted to each member of the clan as they spoke, and returned in the end to Elisa.

"I've still got to change and I'm already late for my shift," she said, finally speaking. Then she turned and walked from the room without another word.

* * *

"I'm sorry, this is all my fault." Angela explained.

"What happened?" Demona managed.

Angela pulled back and guilt covered her face. "I cast a spell on you. I thought it would help you to better understand humans." Her eyes looked down to her lap. "But something went wrong. I didn't think out the consequences of the spell as well as I should have."

"Angela! After all I have tried to teach you! You DARE to pull something this foolish?"

The young gargess flinched then looked up into her mother's eyes. "I will never touch magic again."

As Demona's memories continued to return to her, she began to recall a few of her own magical mishaps during her own apprentice period. Her expression softened.

"Angela, my daughter, we all make mistakes at one point or another. Do not let this keep you from your lessons." She punctuated her words by drawing Angela into a warm hug.

* * *

Angela put her arm around Demona as they turned back to the fireplace. They had watched the flames dancing for several silent seconds before Angela noticed the new painting hanging over the mantle.

"Where did you get that?" the girl asked, staring at it in wonder.

"It was a gift... from a fr-," Demona began, "from an artist I just hired to help spruce up the Nightstone offices."

Angela smiled at her mother's slip of the tongue. "But I thought you hated humans," she accused mildly, still smiling.

Demona shrugged, and a small smile formed on her lips. "Some of them I can... tolerate."

* * * * *

Goliath and Talon stood guarding each other's backs in the center of the melee. Talon fired a blast of electricity at a fully formed cheetah and grinned a feline smile of satisfaction as it fell away, howling inhumanly. "What did you do to my sister to get her so mad at you?" he asked Goliath as the gargoyle leader lashed out at his own opponent.

"I did nothing!" Goliath protested. The sudden burst of frustration gave him the leverage he needed to pry the were-cheetah from his throat. He tossed the creature away from himself, knocking a half-changed servant away from Hudson. "Elisa does not understand that I must command my clan as I feel it best!"

Talon ducked a charge and smiled, then laughed despite the dire situation. "You're fighting about who wears the pants?" He rolled his eyes as he danced away from a cheetah, trying to put enough distance between them so that he could fire an energy blast without feeling the recoil. "You have my sympathies, man!"

* * * * *

* * * * *

The last rays of the sun disappeared below the western horizon, marking the end of another late spring day. As the night winds began to blow about the ancient Scottish castle perched atop the Eyrie Building, cracks formed upon the eleven statues roosting on the weatherworn battlements. Then, with a mighty rumbling sound, the stone shards burst from the awakening gargoyles, who stretched and roared to greet the night.

Broadway stepped down from his perch and extended a hand to help Angela from hers, mirroring Brooklyn and Sata. Ariana and Graeme were already chasing Nudnik along the battlements before Lexington could help Hudson to the ground.

"Ach, thank ye, lad," the old warrior said, rubbing his back. Bronx bounded up and lifted his head automatically for a scratch between the ears, with which Hudson and Lexington both obliged him.

Goliath spiraled down from the tower as Coldstone and Coldfire stepped from the shadows of the wall, and alighted on the paving stones near them.

"Greetings, brother," Coldstone said.

"Good evening, brother, sister," Goliath replied.

"The day was uneventful," Coldfire added, responding to her lavender rookery brother's unasked question. Goliath nodded, and turned to the others as his second in command approached.

"Goliath," Brooklyn asked, giving a sideways glance at his children, who had finally gotten Nudnik to sit still, "do you think we should patrol the city tonight?"

"Yes," replied the clan's leader. "But we must be wary. The recent attack upon the Labyrinth has made it clear that our enemies are growing more confident. We must not let our guard down, even for a moment, while we are outside the castle walls."

Brooklyn sighed. "Remember the good old days?" he asked. "When we just had to protect the city from human criminals? What I wouldn't give to have those back again."

"Me, too," said Broadway, stepping over with his arm around Angela. "I'd rather take on Tony Dracon's whole gang over a few of those Halflings, any night." He looked at his intended, adding quickly, "not that I'm afraid of them, of course."

David Xanatos picked that moment to make his presence known. "Ah yes, those were the days," he interjected, stepping out onto the parapets. "You knew who you were then. 'Goyles were 'goyles and men were men," he quipped, grinning.

Sata moved in beside her mate, a questioning look on her face as she watched Broadway roll his eyes and Angela softly chuckle to herself.

"No matter how much you think you want or need it, the past has to remain just that, the past," Sata commented seriously. "We must focus on the reality of the here and now... and right now that includes the threat of the Unseelie Court and their allies."

"Agreed," Goliath rumbled. "We must do whatever we can to keep the Unseelie from gaining control of this city," said Goliath.

"Which is why I need to borrow Lexington for just a moment," Xanatos intruded again. This time, he succeeded in garnering a direct response.

"Over here!" Lexington called, waving a four-fingered hand. He gave Bronx one last playful pat on the head as Xanatos looked over and headed in his direction.

"So let's patrol," Brooklyn said as Xanatos and Lexington stepped off to the side to talk. "Anyone got any preferences on how to do this tonight?" he asked.

"Ariana," Sata called.

Both children immediately ceased their roughhousing and turned toward their parents, a panting Nudnik sitting on his haunches between them. "Yes, Okasan?" the young female replied.

"You and Angela are with me, tonight." She looked at the pup a moment. "And Nudnik, too. Graeme, you patrol with your father."

"Guess it's a 'guys night out', right, kiddo?" Brooklyn said as he wrapped his arm around his son. Graeme didn't say anything, but gave his sister an "oh-no-Dad's-trying-to-be-cool" look. "Broadway and Lex," he continued, peering around to see if his web-winged rookery brother done talking to Xanatos, "you're with me, too."

Lexington looked over at him briefly. "I'll be there in a second," he yelled, then turned back to Xanatos. "Like I was saying, what you need to do is reverse the polarity of the neutron flow..."

Goliath nodded, satisfied with the groupings. "It's good to have you by my side again, old friend," Goliath said to Hudson as he ambled over with Lexington.

"Aye, lad," he replied. Bronx circled behind and butted against Goliath's massive flank.

"Yes, and you will come with us, too," Goliath added. Bronx barked back happily.

"Lad," Hudson said, tilting his head in the direction of Coldstone and his mate. "We could always use an extra strong arm or two."

"My apologies, brother," Goliath said, turning to the two constructs. "I meant no slight. I thought you would want to relax after patrolling all day."

"Thank you, my brother," Coldstone said.

"Besides," Coldfire added, "someone should be here to protect the castle and those within."

Goliath acquiesced. "Very well." He turned to the others. "Come, let's begin our patrol."

Sata, Angela, and Ariana, the latter carrying Nudnik, took to air a moment later, turning their wings north. Goliath and Hudson followed shortly after, carrying Bronx between them and heading south. As their forms shrank away in the distance, Brooklyn, Broadway, and Graeme stood on the edge of the parapets, still waiting for Lexington.

"I think you'd better join your clanmates," Xanatos suggested after glancing up and catching the glare in Brooklyn's eyes.

"I can show you what I mean later," Lexington called back to the man as he hurried over to the parapets.

"I'll probably be in my office when you return," Xanatos replied. "Have a safe night," he added.

The four gargoyles acknowledged his words with a wave; a moment later, they were gliding away on the late spring breeze.

"After you," Xanatos said, gesturing toward the door. Coldstone and Coldfire moved inside, holding hands, and, after another brief look toward the winged shapes receding toward the horizon, Xanatos followed after them.

* * * * *

A hissing, like that of an angry snake, filled the air. In the shadows of a darkened subway stairwell, a tall figure stood, scanning the sky with binoculars, oblivious to the menacing sound coming from behind him. Beside him, two others waited, peering over the top of the stairs, watching the cars go by. All the while, the noise continued, pausing periodically, then continuing again, each time increasing in anger and intensity.

Adding a final stroke to the balloon letter "L," the graffiti artist stepped back, spray paint cans in each hand, admiring his work. "RAEL" was now emblazoned on the wall in five-foot high blood-red letters, outlined in yellow and punctuated by a similarly patterned seven-pointed star.

"Another masterpiece," he commented, grinning.

"So proclaims the Ethereal Aerosol King," whispered one of the others, a slender, petite woman with her wild dark hair styled like an eighties glam rocker. She turned her attention from the passing cabs to the sky, following the gaze of the one with the binoculars. The short man beside her chuckled, and tucked his hands into his faded denim jacket.

"See anything, Vince?" asked the smaller man at last.

"Uh-uh," Vince replied, shaking his head, as he continued to watch the heavens. "No sign of them anywhere so far."

The momentary smile gone from his face, the graffiti artist pitched the empty cans down the steps, where they clattered noisily into the darkness. "This is a waste of time," he grumbled as he drew a fresh can from inside his leather jacket and began shaking it vigorously. "Just waiting for those things to show up. Whose freakin' plan was this anyway?"

"Yours, Rael," replied Vince, putting down the binoculars and turning to glance sharply at him - and spying the still-wet paint on the wall.

The short man turned with Vince. "Yeah, man, it was..." he trailed off as Rael shot back an icy stare at Vince. For a moment, the only sound disturbing the cold silence was the rattle of the mixing ball as Rael continued to shake the paint can.

"Shut your trap, Jake," the woman said in a scratchy soprano, shoving the small man aside and stepping over to Rael. "Don't question our fearless leader." Her tone was slightly mocking as she leaned up against the wall beside him, and he stopped shaking the can long enough to glare at her as well.

"OK," Rael said, holding his voice low for the moment, "so do any of you chumps have any better ideas? He turned a hard stare back to the woman. "Rita?"

Rita rolled her eyes and cracked her gum. "You're s'posed to be the big shot with all the great ideas," she shot back. "That's why Mouse made you leader, ain't it?"

Rael balled his free hand into a fist, which started glowing faintly in the dimness of the stairwell.

"Uh, I got an idea," Jake said quickly. All eyes turned to him. "Ever heard of how Mohammed went to the mountain when it wouldn't come to him?" he said.

"Yeah. So? What's that got to do with those monsters, anyway?" Vince asked.

"We know that those flying creeps nest at the Eyrie Building," said Jake confidently. "So let's just head over there during the daytime, and smash them into rubble! That would make things a whole lot simpler for us!"

The other three just stared at him, Rita shaking her head. Vince sighed and turned his binoculars back to the sky.

"Great idea, Jake," Rael said, patting him on the shoulder mockingly. "And just how are you proposing that we break into the Eyrie Building? Xanatos has that place rigged up with the toughest security system on the East Coast! Breaking into the White House would be easier than that!"

"Heh! I could get in there. I'd just put on a beret, tell 'em I'm an intern, and walk right in," Rita said, brushing a hand over her hair and laughing at her own joke.

"You mean crawl right in on your knees," Vince added, eyes still fixed on the sky. Rita scowled and stepped away from the wall, but another frigid glance from Rael froze her where she was. The de-facto leader turned back to Jake.

"George and his team did it," Jake protested.

"Yeah, and we all know how long they managed to stay," replied Rael. "Besides, you know what effect sunlight has on us now." He talked sweetly, but his hand remained on Jake's shoulder, and Jake winced as his grip tightened. "I'll tell you what, Jake," he said, his voice taking an angry tone again as he clamped down on the man's shoulder, forcing him nearly to his knees. "Just leave the thinking to those of us with brains from now on..."

"Hey!" shouted Rita, pointing upwards. "Look, up in the sky!"

Vince hurriedly panned across the sky with his binoculars. Four dark shapes moved against the stars, almost overhead. "That sure ain't Superman," he said, nodding with satisfaction.

Rael released Jake from the vice-like shoulder pinch and tucked the unused spray can back into his jacket. He looked up at the sky, too, and grinned. "Lady and gentlemen - and I used those terms loosely - let's move."

Silently they crept from the subway stairwell and vanished into the shadows of the street.

* * * * *

Hudson held Bronx against his chest and looked over at his silent companion for the fifth time. "'Tis quiet tonight," he offered at last.

"Mmm," the big gargoyle muttered in reply.

"Lad, is somethin' botherin' ye?" the elder gargoyle finally asked.

Goliath looked up at him.

"It's Elisa, isn't it," Hudson stated.

"Why do you say that?" Goliath rumbled, suddenly uncomfortable.

"I still have one guid eye, lad," the bearded gargoyle half-chuckled, "I've seen the way you two have been behavin' lately. Why, ye've barely spoken a dozen civil words between the two of ye since that big to-do about Demona."

Goliath growled slightly. "She did not approve of the manner in which we resolved the problem and broke the spell," he said, the frustration apparent in his voice, "Yet she was the first to support Angela in demanding that the clan help."

Hudson gave a full chuckle this time. "Aye, lad, females can be vexing like that." He smiled wistfully for a moment. "But it's been over a month, lad," he continued. "Don't ye think it's time to talk to her about it?"

"She will talk when she is ready to talk," Goliath replied.

"Och, ye both be too stubborn for yer own guid," Hudson scoffed, shaking his head. "I dinnae think, though, that you were afraid to face her," he added, a glimmer in his eye.

Goliath looked up sharply. "I am NOT afraid to speak to her," he replied forcefully.

"Aye, lad, 'tis understandable," Hudson said consolingly. "An angry female can be a most terrifying thing."

Goliath frowned. "I am going to speak to Elisa," he announced resolutely. He banked his wings and peeled away.

"Guid luck, lad," Hudson called after him. He looked down at Bronx; the gargoyle beast stared back up at him quizzically. "And to think after all these centuries, that trick still works," the old warrior commented slyly to his four-legged companion. Bronx replied by licking his face, and the two circled down toward Central Park.

* * * * *

"Is this the place, boss?" Pal Joey asked nervously.

"Yeah. Stop the car," Tony Dracon ordered. He rolled down the window and leaned partway out as a dark figure stepped from the shadows.

"Right on time, Glasses," he greeted. The tall man nodded. "You ready to do some shopping?" Tony inquired. "I hear this place is having a going-out-of-business sale."

Glasses gave an abbreviated chuckle. "Everything's all set," he replied. As if responding to his words, a pair of bright headlights came to life behind him, accompanied by the awakening roar of a diesel engine. Tony and his men watched, nonchalant, as the bulldozer rolled out of the darkness, made a sharp turn, and plowed through the cement block wall of the warehouse.

As the dust settled, Dracon, Glasses, and Pal Joey stepped through the newly created "door." "I want everything that isn't nailed down," Dracon ordered as a truck was backed up near the hole in the wall and a small crew of men in dark coveralls began scurrying around like ants on a picnic. Then he turned to Glasses and Pal Joey. "And you two know what to do with the stuff that is."

Joey held up a briefcase and patted it on the side affectionately, grinning. "We sure do, boss. We sure do."

* * *

Atop the north tower of the Brooklyn Bridge, Sata stood up, frowning. "Let's go," she said as she opened her wings, her voice soft and cold. Angela and Ariana exchanged a look, then spread their wings as well, following the jade female down toward the docks.

* * * * *

Elisa unlocked the storage box and removed her service pistol, loaded it with a full clip, and slipped it into the holster at her side. Placing the box back in the cabinet, she moved across the kitchen and picked her keys and her handcuffs up from the counter, placing the latter onto her belt. She was reaching for her red bomber jacket, hanging on the back of a chair, when a rapping noise startled her.

She looked up, across the living room to the glass doors leading to the balcony, and caught sight of a familiar form. Goliath stood outside, wings cloaked, arms folded, and a determined expression on his face.

"What're you doing here? I've got to be at the station soon," she said in greeting as she unlocked and opened the patio door. She stepped back as Goliath ducked through the door, planting a hand on her hip as she waited for an answer.

Goliath looked at her, taking in the scowl on her face, the weapon hanging in its leather harness at her side, and the stainless steel handcuffs gleaming on her belt. Then he looked again, his eyes following the curve of her form and the soft waves of her hair, and all the things he had thought of to say during the short glide over evaporated.

"Good evening, Elisa," he said at last, meekly.

Elisa took her hand off of her hip, her body taking a less threatening posture. "Good evening, Goliath," she responded levelly.

"I... was hoping we could talk," Goliath said carefully.

"About what?" Elisa asked. "The way you endangered the city last month? I thought that discussion was closed," she snapped. Goliath opened his mouth to reply, but she didn't let him. "You knew how I felt about that 'plan,' yet you went ahead with it anyway... and you didn't even have the decency to tell me yourself - I have to hear it from Xanatos and Fox, and they act like I'm supposed to be happy about it."

"I did what was best for the clan and for Demona. You yourself wanted her memories returned to her, as well," Goliath argued.

"Not at the risk of the whole city!" Elisa replied. "Goliath, don't you realize what could've happened if something had gone wrong? If the Unseelie had decided to take advantage of that moment and make their attack? Or what if someone had seen you guys? Everything we've worked so hard for could've been undone - the city could've turned on you again! And this time, I wouldn't have been able to protect you!"

Goliath listened patiently as Elisa enumerated her frustrations, then took a step toward her. "Elisa, do you not think the same worries did not go through my mind as well that night? The whole clan knew the risks, but they were willing to take them."

"The city wasn't yours to risk," the human woman objected. "You put millions of lives in danger beside your own, and you had no right to do that."

"How else would you have had us break the spell on Demona, then?" Goliath questioned.

"I don't know!" Elisa shot back. "But I'm sure another way could've been found if you had given it some time. It wouldn't have hurt her to be 'human' for a few more days."

"It was not right for her to remain that way," Goliath replied. "You yourself helped convince me of that. We had to act." He growled at the irony of realizing he was now defending Demona.

"So you placed her well-being over that of the entire city," Elisa retorted. "That was even more wrong than Angela denying Demona her memories in the first place... and at least she admitted she was wrong." She gave a frustrated shake of the head, and fixed her eyes firmly on Goliath's. "The needs of the many outweigh..."

"The needs of the few," Goliath concluded.

"Or the one," Elisa corrected, eyes flashing at having been interrupted.

"Yes, I have heard that maxim before," Goliath replied. "But sometimes the opposite is true as well." He sighed deeply. "Angela was right... Demona is still clan... we could not just turn our backs on her again."

"I thought I was part of the clan, too," Elisa said, hurt.

"You are," Goliath said sincerely. "But I am the leader, and I must make decisions sometimes that effect us all. And sometimes members of the clan do not agree with the decisions the leader makes."

Elisa crossed her arms. "So my opinion doesn't matter."

"That is not what I said," Goliath replied, sighing.

An uneasy silence filled the air between them for a long moment.

"I have to get to work," Elisa said at last. "I'll... stop by the castle before sunrise," she added softly.

Goliath brightened slightly at that. "I will see you later, then," he said.

Elisa walked over to let him out. He was halfway out the door when she put her hand on his arm, stopping him. Goliath turned back to her, startled by her touch.

"Be careful out there. All of you," she said. Her eyes showed uncertainty.

"We will. You will do the same?" he returned.

The dark-haired woman nodded, then watched him go.

* * * * *

Angela crept up to the edge of the roof and peered over. The first person she saw on the ground below had a shock of white in his wavy dark hair.

"It's Dracon!" she gasped, shocked.

Sata looked where the younger female pointed. "So it is. He must be a very brave man."

"Why do you say that?" Angela asked.

Sata pointed to an emblem painted on the wall of the warehouse Dracon's men were currently emptying. "That building belongs to the Yakuza. That kanji symbol is meant to protect it and ensure good fortune."

"I think they'd have been better off hiring a security guard than a sign painter," Angela commented, watching as the men below loaded crates into a truck.

Ariana came up between the two adults, peering over the low wall to examine the action for herself. "Mom, Aunt Angela... why does that man have a skunk on his head?"

Angela chuckled softly, and Sata cracked a smile. Nudnik took that moment to pop his head up as well. His eyes darted about rapidly while his tongue lolled over the edge. Ariana pushed him back down and quieted him before he could start yipping.

"So are we gonna kick some tail?" Ariana asked, drawing her bo staff from her back and twirling it.

Sata put a hand on her daughter's shoulder. "Be patient, Ari-chan."

"Yes," Angela agreed, stooping down to look Ariana in the eye. "We don't want to just charge in without a plan, do we?"

Ariana chewed on one of her braids for a second and then shook her head. "No, Aunt Angela."

"Good." Angela smiled. "Because I think I have an idea..."

* * * * *

"Get those clowns off the stage and get us some real music," a young, well-dressed Japanese man ordered, pointing to a trio of intoxicated men clustered around the microphone. The other three men sitting around the small table rose as one, and moved off to carry out their leader's wishes. "Now where were we, enzerubebii?" Tommy Kimura asked, turning back to the small woman tucked under his arm. She giggled and ducked her head submissively, avoiding eye contact.

A few seconds later, loud, hard rock from the jukebox replaced the drunken stylings from the karaoke machine. Tommy bent his head down to deliver a kiss.

"Kimura-san, I am sorry to disturb you," a hesitant voice interrupted.

Tommy looked up sharply, still keeping his arm around his date as he glared at his lieutenant. "What do you want, Ryu? Can't you see that I'm busy?!" he snapped.

"My deepest apologies," the man said, bowing at the waist, "but I just received a call." He looked around and leaned closer, lowering his voice. "There's trouble at one of our warehouses uptown. Pier 24."

Tommy gave him a blank look. "Then deal with it," he replied.

"Hai, Kimura-san." Ryu gave another bow and hurried off as Tommy returned his attentions to the shy, quiet young woman sitting beside him.

* * * * *

Broadway surveyed the dark streets below and sighed. "I wonder what Angela's doing right now," he mumbled.

Lexington rolled his eyes. "Would you stop sulking? It's not like you don't patrol with her all the time. One night with us won't kill you."

"Yeah, Broadway," Brooklyn consoled. "Sata isn't here either, and you don't see me dragging my wings on the ground."

"But you two have been together forever," Broadway responded, sighing again.

Graeme smiled and opened his beak. "Yeah, Dad, you did say you and mom once saw a dinosaur..."

Brooklyn cut him off with a look. "Let's take a break," he said authoritatively. "This old, decrepit gargoyle needs to rest his wings."

Graeme grinned wryly and followed after his father as Brooklyn pulled back his wings and began a slow descent toward the rooftops. Lexington followed, and, after letting out another forlorn sigh, Broadway followed as well.

* * * * *

Captain Chavez paused at her office door, listened, and sighed. "Isn't anyone going to get that phone?" she asked loudly to no one in particular as she strode across the room, leaving her keys dangling from the lock.

Several evening shift detectives clustered around a newly opened box of donuts set down their coffees and started to rise, but Chavez put them back into their seats with an annoyed glare.

Pushing aside the stack of dog-eared manila folders that had fallen on top of it, Chavez picked up the receiver, snagging the phone in mid-ring. "Hello, 23^rd Precinct," she greeted, a trace of annoyance still lingering in her voice.

"Hello, um... Elisa?" a female voice on the other end asked.

"This is Captain Chavez. Detective Maza isn't in right now. Can I help you?"

"Umm... what about Detective Bluestone? Can I speak to him?"

Chavez glanced across to the adjoining desk. A cup of coffee sat cooling beside some open files, but the chair was empty. "He's not at his desk right now. May I ask who this is and take a message?" she replied.

"Okay," the voice replied hesitantly. There was a pause. Chavez picked up a pen.

* * *

Matt Bluestone stepped out of the file room, a heavy banker's box in his arms, and was turning to jerk the door closed, balancing the box on one knee, when a blur of red crashed into him.

"Hey, slow down, Maza!" he admonished as he juggled the box.

"Sorry," Elisa replied, grabbing it before it could tumble from his hands and helping him regain his balance.

"What's the rush?" he asked as he fell in step beside her.

"I'm late," she said.

"Late?" Matt said, confused. "It's not even half past ten. Aren't you on graveyard tonight?"

"Yes," she answered, sounding annoyed, as they entered the squad room, "but I wanted to get in here a couple hours early and get last night's unfinished paperwork taken care of before shift started." She checked her watch and sighed. "I've lost fifteen minutes already."

Matt was about to reply when he looked up and saw Captain Chavez standing near their desks. Both detectives quieted as they approached.

"Angela Destine?" Chavez confirmed, jotting the name on the paper.

Elisa practically sprang forward to come up beside the Captain. Chavez looked up, startled, but caught herself before the receiver slipped from her grasp. "Hold on, Miss Destine," she said into the phone, "Detective Maza just got in."

Elisa took the phone quickly as Matt circled around to his desk and set the banker's box down, all the while giving his partner a curious look. Chavez stepped back, but, as Elisa noticed out of the corner of her eye, did not depart.

Elisa put the phone to her ear. "Angela?" she asked.

"Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Who?!?" Elisa grabbed up a pen from her desk and hurriedly started scribbling on the same piece of paper Chavez had begun writing on. The Captain looked over at Matt, who replied with a shrug. "Where are you?" Elisa asked. She scribbled down the reply. "We'll be there as soon as possible. Thanks, Angela. Goodbye."

Elisa hung up the phone quickly.

"What was that all about, Maza?" Captain Chavez asked. "Who was that?"

"A friend with a tip," she replied evasively. "Call up Tony Dracon's parole officer... it sounds like our boy's up to his old tricks again." She looked to Matt meaningfully. "Ready to roll, partner?"

Matt was already slipping into his trenchcoat. "Let's do it," he said as he followed her from the room.

Captain Chavez watched them go. "Angela Destine," she mouthed. "Now why does that name sound familiar?" She crossed her arms and thought for a moment, then shook her head as someone shouted her name from across the room, and went back to work.

* * * * *

Angela took the cellular phone from her ear and searched a moment for the right button to turn it off. Finding it, she jabbed it with her talon-tip, then folded the phone up and slipped it back into the little holster on her belt.

"Elisa and Matt are on their way," she announced.

"Very good, Angela-chan," Sata said, nodding.

Ariana listened patiently as the adults finished speaking, then piped up immediately. "Why can't we just swoop down like we did with those robbers last month?" she asked sweetly.

"Because there's only three..."

Nudnik stood up, putting his front paws on Angela's leg and chomping down on the dangling edge of her tunic.

"... four of us," she corrected herself, pushing the beast back down and wiping the slobber from her clothes, "and Dracon has about a dozen men down there. Besides, all we want to do is hold them here until Elisa can arrive and catch them red-handed."

"What color are their hands now?" Ariana asked, her eyes twinkling as a grin spread across her beak.

Angela tousled the younger female's hair. "You really take after your father sometimes, you know that?" she said.

Sata gave a wry smile. "I have told her the same thing many times myself," she commented.

"Mom!" Ariana cried in a "please don't embarrass me in front of the cool people" tone.

Angela hushed her as Sata spared another glance over the edge of the roof. "Now let us put aside the joking and get to work," she said, her hand on the hilt of her sword as she eyed Dracon again.

"Yes," Angela agreed. "Come on, Ariana. Now it's time to 'kick some tail.'"

Ariana smiled as she and Angela picked up Nudnik between them. A few seconds later, the rooftop was once more deserted as the small group of gargoyles glided silently over to the roof of the neighboring warehouse.

* * * * *

Broadway moped along the edge of the rooftop, his wings drooping low around his shoulders.

"Come on, Broadway, you're starting to bring me down," Lexington cajoled.

"When you get a girlfriend, maybe you'll understand," Broadway muttered back, not even turning around.

Lexington frowned, while Brooklyn and Graeme whispered conspiratorially, watching as Broadway paced the perimeter of the roof. As he came around to the side where the brilliance of Times Square was behind him, Brooklyn elbowed Graeme in the side.

"Look, son," he said, loud enough that it got his big blue rookery brother to turn. "They say the lights are always bright on Broadway." The two beaked gargoyles grinned. Lexington grinned.

Finally, Broadway began to crack a smile, too.

"They say there's always magic in the air..." The low, chilling voice came from everywhere and nowhere. The four gargoyles moved together quickly, back to back, forming a tight circle.

Silence.

"Who's there?" Brooklyn demanded, eyes faintly glowing.

"I don't recall saying 'Knock, knock,'" the voice replied back, "but if you must know..."

Four human-sized figures stepped from the shadows around the edge of the rooftop, three men and a woman.

"No way they were there a second ago," Lexington whispered. "I would've picked them up on thermal." Brooklyn nodded, surveying the newcomer nearest to him. He was a tall man, skinny, wearing a long dark leather jacket over dark clothes. The man stared back at Brooklyn, smiling slightly. His companions, emboldened, stepped a little closer, tightening the loose circle they had formed around the gargoyles.

"I said, who are you?" Brooklyn demanded icily, his eyes glowing.

The man's smile turned to a wicked sneer. His eyes flashed with electric light. "Don't look at me! I'm not your kind," he growled.

The female of the group, who had neared within ten feet of Broadway, cackled suddenly, making the big blue gargoyle jump. She smiled gleefully at his reaction, and took a step closer. "Whatzamatter, doughboy? You scared?" She brushed back her hair saucily, exposing the tip of her ear. It was pointed.

Broadway's eyes glowed. "Halflings!" he growled.

* * * * *

"OW! Watch it, Jo! These things are heavy."

Jo lifted the brim of her cap and scowled at her partner, then looked over her shoulder again. "Didn't you hear that, Roger?" she asked nervously.

"No," he replied impatiently. Jo craned her neck, listening intently nonetheless. Roger shook his head. "I should never have even told you who owned this place, or what that stupid symbol on the wall outside meant. You're too superstitious."

Jo shot him a glare even as she discreetly rubbed the rabbit's foot dangling from the keychain on her belt. "Don't start with me again, Roger," she warned.

"Whatever," he replied. "For the tenth time, this place is not guarded by spirits. Now help me with this stupid crate so we can get outta here." Jo complied, still keeping one nervous eye fixed over her shoulder. "We should've never quit that last gig," the man added, grunting as he hefted his end of the crate.

"We were fired, Roger," Jo retorted, jostling her side. "Sheesh, what is in these things, anyway?"

The question was answered as Roger suddenly dropped his end of the crate and jumped back. The wooden container hit the floor with a loud CRACK and several fancy-looking pulse rifles slid out onto the floor among the spilt packing material. Jo's eyes bugged out.

Roger's eyes went wide, too, but out of fear rather than amazement. Jo looked at him oddly, about to yell at him over his clumsiness, but his mouth moved mutely and he pointed behind her weakly. She had just begun to turn when a strong, almost unnatural feeling hand grabbed her by the collar of her coveralls and lifted her a good foot and a half off the floor.

Roger gulped as two pairs of glowing eyes burned brightly in the darkness behind Jo, one pair high, one low. From his perspective, his female partner seemed to be floating in midair, her legs flailing frantically but striking nothing.

"You were saying a moment ago?" an eerie, cold voice said from the darkness.

Roger regained his voice. "I do believe in spooks," he said rapidly as he turned to run. I do, I do, I do..." He froze as a... something stepped into his path and growled at him. The snarling, mustard-brown, hairless, doglike creature leapt at him. He spun about and it landed on his back, driving him to the cold cement floor and knocking the wind out of him.

There was a flurry of motion above him, and as he opened his mouth to yell out, a rag was stuffed between his teeth and his arms were jerked behind him. A second later, Jo flopped to the ground next to him, similarly trussed up. They looked at each other for a moment, exchanging bewildered glances.

"Nice moves, Ariana," a soft female voice said above them.

"Thanks, Aunt Angela," a younger sounding female voice replied brightly. Jo winced as the ropes binding her wrists were given one last tug, then both humans groaned through their makeshift gags as they were yanked back to their feet and spun around.

Finally they both got a good look at their attackers.

"Gah-gles??" Jo exclaimed beneath her gag, glaring at Angela. Roger only stared with wide eyes; a little girl and her dog had taken him down.

Ariana cocked her head. "Well, at least these two don't think we're demons."

Angela smiled. "Come on, Ari. Let's put them with the others."

Jo and Roger didn't even protest as they were led away.

* * * * *

Brooklyn winced in sympathy as Lexington crashed into the low wall beside him.

"Dad! Uncle Lex!" Graeme rushed over, extending a hand to each of the adults.

"We're all right," Brooklyn said, groaning slightly as he accepted the help and got back to his feet.

"Speak for yourself," Lexington retorted, rubbing his head and stumbling dizzily as he righted himself. He blinked several times. "Great," he moaned, "I think that last blast fried my targeting system."

"These guys are as strong as us," Graeme said, stating the obvious.

"RRRRAHHH!" Broadway's frustrated roar drew their attention back to the battle. The big blue gargoyle was grappling with the female Halfling, their hands interlocked and their bodies poised in a classic test of strength. The other three Halflings were taking a short breather to watch with wicked smiles on their faces, cheering her on.

"C'mon, Rita! Take 'em down!" yelled the skinny Halfling in the long leather coat.

Rita gave a growl of her own - a weird, high-pitched, throaty sound - and her eyes glowed as she surged back against her gargoyle opponent, who towered over her by at least two feet.

"No way," Lexington said, astonished, as he watched the tiny woman overtop his massive rookery brother and begin to force Broadway to his knees.

"Yes way," Graeme muttered back, gaping at the same sight.

A growl rose in Brooklyn's throat. "What are we waiting for?" he asked as he dove back into the fray. Lexington and Graeme took the cue and charged as well.

The combined battle cries of the other gargoyles and shouts of her compatriots as they were tackled distracted Rita long enough for Broadway to rear back up and overcome her with his sheer size. She grunted and twisted free from the hold, staggering away before he could collapse on top of her.

"Round one to you," she snapped. "Notch one up for the Incredible Bulk." She gave that high pitched cackle of hers again and took up a defensive stance. Broadway growled again, eyes flashing white. "C'mon," she enticed, gesturing as she danced in place with fists raised.

Broadway lunged. Rita leapt up, dodging him, and remained hovering in the air as he charged beneath her. He stopped short of toppling off the roof and looked up, confused.

"Float like a butterfly," she said, shaking her head as she aimed a finger at the big gargoyle. A bolt of green energy shot from her hand, and propelled Broadway back over the low wall. "But sting like a bee," she added wickedly.

Graeme scrambled between Jake's legs, sending the Halfling toppling onto his head, and ran to the edge in time to see Broadway open his wings and slow himself just before landing in an open dumpster in the alley below.

"Gra-ooomf!" Rael slugged Brooklyn hard in the stomach, and Graeme turned just as Jake grabbed him by the scruff of his tunic and lifted him off the ground. Vince took hold of a dizzy Lexington's tail as Rael grabbed a winded Brooklyn in an armlock. "Let's take out the rest of the trash!" the Halfling leader suggested. With almost no effort, he spun around and flung Brooklyn toward the edge of the building. Vince and Jake followed suit.

Broadway had finally pulled himself up onto the edge of the dumpster when he heard a hollering and looked up. A second later, three dazed gargoyles landed in a heap on top of him, and the whole group tumbled back into the dumpster.

"Woohoo! Three points!" Rita cackled, laughing insanely as she watched from her perch in midair just above the rooftop ledge. The other Halflings joined her in midair, pleased smiles on their faces.

"And this is only the first quarter," Rael said coolly.

With feral smiles on their faces, the quartet of Halflings slowly skated down to the alleyway below.

* * * * *

Tony Dracon checked his watch. It had been more than a minute since the last pair of men had hurried by with a crate. He poked his head back through the hole in the wall. "Come on, fellas, let's see some hustle," he encouraged aloud to the quiet warehouse, clapping his hands like a football coach. The sound echoed back from the metal ceiling, sending an odd shiver up his back.

"What's the rush, Tony?" a female voice intoned from behind him. Dracon whirled, and to his credit, barely staggered at all when a pair of red glowing eyes greeted him from the darkness. Angela stepped out of the shadows, crossed her arms, and shook her head scoldingly.

"Now correct me if I'm wrong," she mused, "but I'm sure breaking, entering, and grand theft are violations of your parole."

Dracon gave a smug smile. "What, is Maza appointing you guys as her deputies now?" He looked her up and down. "Goliath's little girl, right?" He straightened his jacket, relaxing his posture a bit. "Tell your daddy I send my regards."

Angela flared her wings and hissed, and Dracon took a step back and held up his hands in front of him. "Whoa, I see you got his temper, too," he commented.

"Actually, she gets more of that from her mother."

Dracon spun around toward the source of the new, colder female voice. He blinked as a jade green gargoyle dressed in Japanese-style garb stepped into view, holding Glasses in one hand and Pal Joey in the other, both men tightly bound in neat wrappings of rope. Sata tossed the two sidekicks to the ground at Dracon's feet. "You should hire more competent help. They were barely a challenge."

"It was no fair, boss, they jumped us from behind!" Joey whined. He quieted when Glasses gave him a dirty stare.

Dracon took a step back, bumping into Angela. He spun around and she bared her fangs inches from his face, and he staggered back again, lost his footing, and landed on his rump between his two tied-up henchmen.

Angela winced in mock sympathy.

Dracon blinked several times and looked back and forth between Sata and Angela. "Wait-a-minute, you're her mother?" He gestured from Sata to Angela. "But I thought Goliath and Maza..."

Angela gave a musical laugh, Sata smirked, and Dracon scowled, more confused than ever.

"As much as I would be honored to call her so, Angela-chan is not my daughter," Sata said, still smirking. She thought for a moment. "I believe, to use human terms, she is my sister-in-law."

Angela looked a Sata for a moment, then turned her eyes back to Dracon. "Trust me. You wouldn't want to meet my mother," she said.

"Great," Tony grumped. "It's the Brady Bunch with wings."

Angela stifled a giggle. "Not your night, is it, Tony? It's a shame, too... Elisa was really hoping you'd stay out of trouble this time."

Dracon barely paid attention to her. He looked around expectantly, seeming confused. "Where are all those guys we hired?" he finally asked Glasses.

Sata interrupted before Glasses could answer. "They were poor fighters, but some of them were excellent runners," she said.

Angela shrugged. "Somehow they all got the idea that this warehouse was protected by demons," she stated innocently.

"None of them were faster than Nudnik, though," a new voice added from the shadows. Angela stepped aside as Ariana bounded into the light with the gargoyle beast in question at her side.

Dracon blinked again, staring at the girl. "What is this, a cruel joke?" he asked.

"No, this is my daughter," Sata replied proudly.

Ariana bowed politely, almost too cutely for Dracon's liking. He made a face. Ariana turned to her mother. "All the bad guys are tied up out front for when Aunt Elisa arrives," she said smartly as Nudnik sniffed at Dracon's shoe.

"Very good, Ari-chan," Sata praised.

Dracon crossed his arms angrily and scowled at his tied up henchman. "No more freelancers. Next time we hire union men," he griped.

"'Next time' is not going to be for a long time," Angela pronounced.

* * *

The dark-clothed figure standing on the rooftop several hundred yards away lowered his night vision binoculars and smiled.

"Stupid gargoyles," Ryu spat, turning to his small band of men. "They've done half our work for us already." He pulled his black mask down over his face. "But now we move in for the kill." He gave a few curt orders in Japanese, and the small crew of martial artists scattered, vanishing into the blackness.

* * * * *

Behind the Ed Sullivan Theatre, 10:37 PM

Lexington and Graeme both gave one last tug and pulled Broadway out of the dumpster. The three of them rolled to the ground in a heap. Brooklyn spun as the four Halflings alighted around them.

"Hmm, I've got an idea," Rael said, scratching his chin as he surveyed the trash-covered gargoyles. "How about you just surrender now and we'll dispatch you quick and painless-like." He grinned.

Brooklyn's eyes glowed. "How about if I ship you back to Madoc in little tiny pieces," he growled as the others scrambled to their feet.

"Dad!" Graeme gasped. Brooklyn held up a hand and quieted him

Rael's hair crackled with electric energy. He shrugged. "Have it your way, gargoyle."

The Halflings charged. The battle was on in earnest.

* * * * *

Angela looked at the remnants of Dracon's team with satisfaction. "I'll get Tony and the others over here, so that things will be easy to wrap up, and then we'll leave. Elisa should be arriving soon." As if in response, a siren began to wail in the distance.

"There is no time, Angela-chan," Sata replied. "Elisa will have brought assistance. If we do not wish to be spotted by the other police officers we must depart now."

Angela looked dismayed. "You're right, Sata. I suppose Tony and the others are safe where they are. We can call Elisa after we're away from here and make sure she knows where he is."

"A wise precaution. Now shall we?" Sata turned to Ariana and Nudnik. "Come, Ari-chan. It is time to return to the castle."

"Come on, Nuddie. I know where Graeme stashed a brand new bone!"

The gargoyle beast quivered excitedly as he waited for Ariana to carry him back to the castle and his reward.

* * *

"Blast it! Where did that kid learn to tie knots? The Naval Academy?" Glasses groused as he struggled against his bonds.

"Shut up, Glasses," Tony snapped as he struggled with his own ropes. "See if you can't wiggle a little closer. Maybe we'll have better luck if you try and untie my hands. If we can get one of us loose then maybe, just maybe, we can get out of this mess."

A shadow passed close by, black against the darkness.

"What was that?" Pal Joey asked nervously.

"What was what?" Tony growled. "Don't tell me you're so rattled that you're jumping at shadows, Joey."

"It's been a tough night," he returned, but the freckle-faced gangster continued to scan the blackness nervously.

In the distance a trio of sirens screamed loudly.

"Hurry up, Glasses!" Tony hissed. "Maza's brat, uh, step-brat - man, remind me to give her a hard time about all that after we get out of here - anyway, she must have called for back up."

"Almost got it!" Glasses struggled with the heavy cable, pausing to flex his cramping fingers before he began to work the knots once more.

"Uh, boss?" Pal Joey said quietly.

"What now, Joey?" Tony replied, as his wrists slipped free from the ropes. He bent to unknot his ankles before turning his attention to Glasses' restraints.

"We are not alone."

"Of course we're not alone, you idiot! The place is full of gargoyles and the cops are gonna be breathing down our necks any minute."

A gun barrel glittered in the dim light of the warehouse. "No boss, what I mean is DUCK!!" Joey threw himself against Tony and Glasses, rolling the pair behind a heavy crate. Gunfire roared through the warehouse as the Yakuza opened fire.

"It just gets better and better, don't it?" Tony growled as he freed Glasses and started in on Pal Joey. "Glasses, bust into one of those crates and see if you can't find something that's gonna help us out here!"

* * *

"Ryu-san!" a black garbed soldier hissed to his superior. "The police are on their way! We must leave now!"

Ryu cursed quietly and colorfully in Japanese. "Recall the kyodai. We have proved our point tonight."

"Hai, Ryu-san!" The shadow moved back into the darkness and after a moment, Ryu followed.

* * *

Angela moved to glide back down toward the docks, but Sata put an arm on her shoulder, steadying her. "There is no point in that, Angela-chan," the jade female said. "They are already gone."

Angela's eyes flared dimly. "The Yakuza again," she growled softly. "I knew we hadn't seen the last of them."

Nudnik whined, and Ariana scratched him behind the ears. "Here comes Aunt Elisa!" she said, pointing.

Sata nodded. "Then it is time for us to go. Come. Let us return to the castle."

The Japanese gargoyle led the way, leaping off the steel tower of the bridge and turning her wings toward the Eyrie Building. Ariana gathered up Nudnik and followed. Angela paused to take one more look down at the arriving armada of police cruisers, then spread her wings and did the same.

* * *

Elisa pulled her gun out of her shoulder holster and Matt echoed her action as they bolted out of the car. "Did you hear gunfire?" Matt muttered, scanning the warehouse and dock front.

Elisa shook her head, her attention already captured by several disconcerted thugs waiting gift-wrapped next to the warehouse. "Looks like all we have to do is some housekeeping."

"Oh, I do love taking out the trash," Matt quipped as he started directing patrolmen to escort the prisoners to the squad cars.

* * *

"Come on, Tony! Let's beat it already," Glasses hissed to his boss from shadows as they watched their hired help being escorted away.

"Not yet, Glasses. We've got one more little job to wrap up before we call it a night." He watched impatiently as Matt and Elisa waved away the last of the patrol cars, then climbed into the red Fairlane. "Come on, Maza," Tony griped. "Don't take all night."

The Fairlane cruised away, the partners inside laughing over some shared joke. Tony reached inside his pocket and pulled out the detonator. "Time to go, boys." He climbed into the van, thankful that the Yakuza had thoughtfully provided plain wood packing cases for their merchandise, and pressed the detonator switch.

There was a low rumble, and then the warehouse blossomed into a fireball.

"I guess this means we're not going back to The Four Seasons?" Glasses said wistfully, adjusting the rear view mirror to avoid the glare from the rising flames.

Tony shrugged. "I guess not. Oh well, I was getting tired of their room service anyway."

Dracon and his men drove quietly away as the first emergency response units began to arrive on the scene of the inferno.

* * * * *

Behind the Ed Sullivan Theatre, 10:42 PM

Brooklyn ducked to the ground and rolled away as Rael attempted to deliver a high spin kick.

"Good boy," Rael chided as he regained his balance and Brooklyn hopped to his feet. "You've got 'roll over' down pat. Now for our next stupid gargoyle trick, let's work on 'play dead.'" He threw himself on Brooklyn's back and attempted to wrap his arms around the gargoyle's neck.

Brooklyn threw him off using the leverage of his wings, and the fight went back to fists and feet.

Lexington and Graeme were back to back, with Vince and Jake charging from either side.

"Now!" Lexington yelled. Both he and Graeme ducked and fell to the side just as the two Halflings leapt into the air. Vince and Jake flailed their arms but couldn't stop their momentum. They collided and tumbled to the ground.

Lexington helped Graeme to his feet. "It's a little trick I picked up fighting the Steel Clan," he explained between breaths.

"C'mon, Butterball! You can't be tired already!" Rita taunted, dancing around Broadway at a dizzying pace. She darted in and slapped him upside the head with the back of her palm, then ducked back away before he could turn. "C'mon!" she called again angrily. "Gimme a challenge here! I've seen glaciers that can move faster!"

The frustration shown in the blue gargoyle's glowing eyes as he whipped his tail around, trying to knock the Halfling's feet from under her. She leapt over it easily. "Stupid gargoyle, I wanna fight, not play jump rope!" she mocked.

Broadway let loose a roar that shook the windows of the surrounding buildings. "Bite me!" he growled.

The Unseelie shrugged. "If you insist." She lunged and the pair grappled as the Halfling went for the portly gargoyle's neck.

They rolled together on the pavement for a moment like a pair of professional wrestlers. Rita gave a feral grin as they finally came to rest, with her sitting astride the huge gargoyle, holding him down. "I just wanna give ya a little kiss," she hissed, lowering her head.

"Ow!!!" Broadway cried in pain as the pointy-eared woman sunk her teeth into his neck. Eyes glowing, he kicked her off roughly. She landed about ten feet away, hard, on her backside, but the impact barely knocked the wind from her. She was back on her feet in a matter of seconds.

"How rude!" she griped. She wiped at her mouth, smiling as blood came away on her hand.

Broadway had pulled himself back to his feet, as well, pressing his hand against the stinging wound on his neck, which felt like a hot dagger piercing his throat. He glared at the Halfling as he pulled his hand away and examined it, and his eyes glowed hot and white as he saw the blood.

Rita laughed. "I hope you can explain that hickie to your girlfriend... if you got one, ya fat cow!"

Broadway growled and lunged at her this time. Again, they went to the ground in a heap, clawing and kicking at each other.

Brooklyn landed a sold punch on Rael's forehead, dazing him, then grabbed him by the lapels of his leather jacket and tossed him into Jake and Vince as they tried to stagger back to their feet.

Graeme cheered for his dad as the three Halflings went down in a tangle of arms and legs.

"Get off of him!" Lexington yelled, jumping onto Rita's back and wrapping his wing membranes around her as she pinned Broadway again and prepared to take another bite.

"Wait your turn!" Rita growled, struggling to free her arms from Lexington's cocoon-like grip.

"Why do you always get the girls?" Lexington asked his brother wryly as he tightened his hold on the wriggling Halfling, allowing Broadway to slip out from under her.

"You can have her if you want her," Broadway growled, glaring at Rita again.

Rita's eyes flashed yellow. A second later the glow enveloped her whole body, and Lexington cried out in pain and released her. An invisible force threw the small gargoyle backwards, and had Brooklyn and Graeme not been there to catch him, he would've been tossed right into the wall.

"I'm not that kinda girl," she hissed menacingly, electricity sparking in her hair.

"Could've fooled me," Broadway huffed, eyes still hot.

Brooklyn and Graeme helped Lexington back to his feet.

"Are you OK, Uncle Lex?" Graeme asked.

Lexington rubbed his head and examined the systems status check flashing in his field of vision. "I'm fine," he said.

"You looked kinda shocked for a moment there," Brooklyn quipped.

Lexington shot him a look. "We gotta help Broadway," he said.

"Uh, dad," Graeme interrupted, pointing behind them.

The three turned as one to see Rael, Jake, and Vince back on their feet, or rather, off their feet, hovering a good three feet off the ground, an eerie, yellow-orange glow surrounding each of them.

"Come on! You wanna piece of me?" Broadway snarled, fists raised like a boxer.

Rita cackled maniacally. "I already had one," she said, licking her lips. "Are you offering me another?"

"This doesn't look good," Brooklyn commented dryly as the three Halflings towered over them.

"We were just warming up before, right boys?" Rael asked his companions. The other two nodded in gleeful agreement. Rael flicked his wrist, and a small glowing sphere of energy appeared in his hand. "Anyone up for baseball?" he asked wickedly. His eyes panned down to Graeme. "How about some little league?"

Brooklyn dove in front of his son as Rael wound up. The energy ball struck him in the chest, exploding and arcing across his armored breastplate and sending him sprawling.

"Dad!" Graeme cried, running to the downed gargoyle's side.

"You're OUT!" Vince yelled, imitating the moves of an umpire in midair. Jake snickered at the display.

"Batter up, junior," Rael sneered, conjuring up another energy ball.

A flying garbage can lid nearly took Rael's head off; he ducked just in time. His concentration lost, the energy ball faded into nothingness.

"Why don't you pick on someone your own size," Lexington growled as Brooklyn regained his feet with his son's help.

Rael drifted closer to the ground, balling his hands into fists. "Time for nighttime's flyers to feel their pains. Let's finish these freaks!" he ordered.

Brooklyn's eyes glowed white as he scooped up a bent, rusty piece of pipe from the ground and took a defensive posture. "Look who's calling who a freak."

Rita darted away from another well-aimed claw slash, though her feet never moved. She hovered about six inches from the ground, arms folded across her chest. She yawned in a bored manner, making an exaggerated gesture with her hand in front of her mouth.

"Is it my turn yet?" she asked.

Broadway growled and swung again. Rita easily dodged him again. He spun and growled. "Stay in one place, you lousy..."

"Now let's play ball," Brooklyn barked, wielding the length of pipe like a bat as the Halflings circled around him and the others. Rael, Jake, and Vince grinned smugly, still hovering in midair.

"What're you gonna do? Break our pinky toes?" Vince said mockingly, staring down at the angry gargoyle.

Brooklyn only returned a grin of his own, then swung the pipe hard... right into the side of a nearby dumpster. The metallic BANG echoed through the alleyway.

Rita shrieked in agony and lifted her hands instinctively to block out the ringing sound that made her head throb as if it was going to explode. The painful distraction allowed Broadway more than enough time to connect with a full-body tackle, and she gasped as the air was driven from her lungs.

Rita crumbled in a heap against the wall, still gripping her ears in pain as another BANG rang out. Broadway backed away from her, catching his breath. She stared up at the huge gargoyle, cowering in near terror now.

A hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her to her feet. "C'mon, Rita, we're outta here!" Rael hissed at her. She struggled to keep up as he pulled her along, stumbling over her own feet and wincing again as a third BANG filled the air.

Brooklyn threw the cast iron pipe to the ground with a satisfied nod. "And don't come back!" he called after the quartet of Halflings as they receded into the darkness, knowing they couldn't hear him.

Graeme looked at his father proudly. "Wow, Dad, that was a grand slam!" he said, beaming.

"Lay off the baseball jokes, will you son?" Brooklyn replied, rubbing under his armor at his aching chest. "I think I've had enough for one night."

Broadway stood, panting heavily, near the wall. Lexington approached him hesitantly. "Are you ok, Broadway?" he asked.

Broadway shook his head to regain his senses. As the adrenaline rush faded, a throbbing pain returned to his neck again. "Yeah," he mumbled. "Ow!" He grabbed his neck and held his hand over the bite. "Stupid Halfling."

"Let me see," Lexington said, concerned. He slowly removed his rookery brother's hand until he could see the two deep punctures on his neck. "Eww," he commented. "She really got you good."

"Like I didn't know that already," Broadway snapped back.

"Hey guys," Brooklyn interrupted, stepping between them with Graeme tucked under one wing. "You hear that?"

Lexington and Broadway quieted down and listened to the sound of sirens.

"That's our exit cue. Let's go," Brooklyn ordered.

A blue and white patrol car stopped near the curb, its flashing lights dancing over the brick faces of the nearby buildings. A few seconds later, a flashlight shone down the empty alleyway.

Officer O'Malley lifted up the brim of his cap and scratched his head. "Nothing," he said, panning the beam of light across the trash littered pavement. "Looks like we just missed them."

Officer Morgan nodded, and glanced up at the sky. Four winged shapes passed before the crescent moon, then were gone. "Whoever they were," he said.

* * *

Rita twisted a finger in her pointed ear, trying to stop the ringing which still filled her head. She pulled it out and inspected her nails, expecting blood. She sighed in relief at finding none and flicked the bit of wax from under her sharp fingernail.

"What the heck happened back there?" Vince demanded, still pounding on the side of his head as if trying to expel water from his ears. "I feel like I just had front row seats for a nuclear explosion!"

"I think my eardrum burst," Jake complained. He turned the side of his head toward Rael. "Is it bleeding? I can't see."

Rael grabbed the tip of the pointed ear and twisted it painfully. "If it isn't, it will be in a moment!" he yelled angrily, kicking at him. Jake howled and wriggled out of Rael's grip, scurrying away behind Vince.

"Quit your whining, Jake," Rita said. "You ain't any worse off than the rest of us."

"We were supposed to be invincible!" Rael yelled, grabbing her roughly and shoving her ahead.

"Hey! Take it up with Mouse, not me!" she yelled back as she recovered her balance and spun to face him. "Unless you feel like getting what that fat pig of a gargoyle got tonight, too." She grinned in the lamplight, running her tongue over her new fangs.

Vince, Jake, and Rael all stared in silent wonderment. Finally, Jake dared to ask, "Where did you get those?"

"I dunno," she replied after considering the question for a moment. "But I think I like 'em."

The three men chuckled. Then Rita joined in, and within a few seconds the chuckles had turned into uproarious laughter. "I can't wait to pay a little homecoming visit to Big Mickey and give him a little kiss," she added as the laughing died down.

Rael put his arm around her, and smiled when she didn't shrug it off. "There'll be time for that later," he said as they started walking again. They turned at a stairwell and started back down into the subway. "So tell me," he asked, "what does gargoyle taste like?"

Rita thought for a moment. "Tastes like chicken," she replied.

Their laughter followed them down into the darkness.

* * * * *

Sata, Angela, and Ariana landed in the courtyard, the young brick-red female gratefully depositing her payload of one gargoyle beast on the flagstones.

"Good boy, Nuddie! Way to take a bite out of crime," Ariana praised, patting him on the head as he snuffled around at the three females' feet.

Sata caped her wings elegantly. "You all fought well tonight," she praised, nodding satisfactorily. "Even Nudnik," the jade female added, glancing down at the young gargoyle beast. Angela caped her wings, as well, and lifted her tail out of the way as Nudnik pushed behind her, nose seemingly glued to the pavement.

"Watcha got, Nuddie? Not another yucky snail, I hope," Ariana said, scampering off after her pet. The young gargoyle beast led her on a wandering path around the courtyard.

Sata smiled, then turned to Angela, laying a taloned hand on the younger female's shoulder. "You are a most capable and resourceful warrior, Angela-chan. You truly fought well tonight. I meant what I said earlier - I am proud and honored to have you as a rookery sister, and as a role model for my children."

Angela's smile was broad as she gave a respectful bow. "Domo arigato, Sata." Unfortunately, the moment was short lived. "Hey!" Angela cried, dancing out of the way as Nudnik nosed between her legs, his pursuit of whatever scent he had found threatening to knock her feet from under her.

"Nudnik! Come here!" Ariana scowled as her pet ignored her and ran over to grab him. She was within a foot when he lifted his head and howled forlornly, and looked up at the sky. The three females looked up to see the quartet of males approaching. Nudnik continued whimpering as they landed, his tone high-pitched and distressed.

Graeme ran over to join Ariana in trying to quiet him as the group set down, and Sata moved to greet her mate, but Angela's attention was immediately drawn to Broadway, who was wincing and holding his head at an odd angle.

"Broadway?" Angela asked, rushing up to her mate, a touch of concern in her voice. "Are you all right?" He tried to cover the wound with his hand before she could see, but she grabbed his wrist and stopped him. She looked at the bite mark and gasped. "Broadway, what happened?" she demanded, alarmed.

"It's nothing," Broadway said, ducking away. "Some stupid human bit me, that's all."

"You mean a Halfling tried to go Dracula on you," Lexington corrected, earning a "thanks for helping" glare from his much larger blue-green rookery brother.

"A Halfling?" Angela asked, startled. She tightened her grip on her intended's arm and pulled him back to where she could again examine the injury. Broadway winced again as she made him tilt his head to the side, and she grimaced as well. By now, the others had gathered around, too, though Sata was doing her best to keep her children on the fringes of the circle.

"It looks more like a snake bite than a human one, actually," Brooklyn commented.

"It's still bleeding!" Angela said. Her hands were trembling as she reached to touch it, her fingers stopping inches from his skin. "Oh, Broadway... I should have been with you," she said, her voice quavering. "If I'd only been there - "

"It happened too quickly, Angela," said Lexington. "She bit him before we even knew what happened! I don't think that any of us could have stopped it."

"But I could have done something," the young female gargoyle protested. "What's the use of my learning magic if I can't even use it to protect my own clan?"

"It's just a little scratch, Angela," Broadway said in a comforting tone, "it's not like she took a chunk out of my ear or anything." Angela didn't smile. "The sun will heal it," he said confidently. "Tomorrow, there won't even be a scar." He took her hand reassuringly in his own. "I'll be all right, Angela."

"Are you sure?" Angela asked, her eyes moist now.

Broadway nodded, but Angela still didn't appear convinced.

"He'll be fine, Angela," Brooklyn said, starting the group moving toward the doors that led inside. "A little stone sleep and he'll be good as new."

* * * * *

The darkly dressed figure stepped back to inspect his work, shaking his spray can slowly. The dark outline of Belvedere Castle loomed above, backlit by the moon.

"It's a bit lopsided, don't ye think, lad?" a gruff voice asked from over his shoulder.

He spun, coming face to face with a bearded, wrinkled face with one glowing eye. He jumped back in shock, slamming his back right into the wet paint covering the stone wall. Near the ground, a pair of glowing eyes emerged from the bushes. A hairless, blue dog the size of a bear growled menacingly at him just before his eyes rolled back and he slumped to the ground.

Hudson took a step forward and, with one hand, lifted the skinny human from the ground by the collar of his jacket. He examined the unconscious man's round ears closely for a moment.

"Och," he said, disgustedly. "I dinnae think he was one of them." He released his grip and let the man slump back against the wall under the now-smeared seven-pointed star. Bronx nosed the slumbering graffiti artist, then barked his agreement with Hudson's assessment.

* * * * *

Broadway gritted his teeth as Owen dabbed the two puncture marks on his neck with an iodine-soaked cotton ball. Angela, standing beside her intended and still holding his hand, couldn't help but wince in sympathy herself.

Brooklyn stood in the doorway, having already sent Sata and the kids on to the kitchen for supper. Lexington crouched beside him.

"He's gonna be fine, right Owen?" the smaller gargoyle asked. Angela's eyes echoed Lexington's question as she looked at the tall blond man.

"I'm a majordomo, not a doctor," Owen replied flatly as he finished cleaning the bite and returned to the first aid kit for a bandage, "but I think he will live to sunrise." The level sarcasm in his tone was not missed by Brooklyn, who grinned slightly, or by his patient.

"See, I told you so, Angela," Broadway said as Owen applied the gauze pad. "I'm gonna be fine." He turned to face her fully after Owen had finished, taking her hands in his own.

Angela looked at him for a moment and finally smiled slightly. "I just worry about you."

"I know, Angela."

Brooklyn and Lexington exchanged a knowing look as Owen stepped past them through the door.

"I'm going to go find Xanatos," Lexington commented.

"And I'm gonna see what my kids have conjured up for dinner tonight," Brooklyn said.

Their excuses to each other made, the two rookery brothers turned and departed, leaving Broadway and Angela alone.

* * * * *

"Och, there ye be, lad. I've been looking all over the place for ye." Hudson set Bronx down and moved toward the still, silent figure who stood by the low parapet wall surrounding the rebuilt clocktower. The blue gargoyle beast sniffed the new concrete curiously, then pawed at it, leaving light scratches in the smooth, troweled surface.

Goliath didn't look over; he continued to stare across the city, gazing at the Eyrie Building and the castle perched atop it.

Hudson moved near the wall beside Goliath and paused, examining one of the three statues perched upon it. "Och, now what are these supposed to be, then?" he asked, tapping the concrete head of the nearest one with his talon." Goliath didn't answer, and he eyed the statue critically. "Hmph. Some fine gargoyle this be, if it be a gargoyle at all. It dinnae have any legs." Bronx looked up and barked in agreement, and then went back to his sniffing. Hudson looked over at Goliath, expecting some reaction but finding none.

"Not in the mood fer conversation this morning, I see," he commented, caping his wings against the wind.

"Morning?" Goliath questioned, turning at last. He glanced up at the clock face rising above them. The minute hand slipped down to quarter past the hour. "I did not realize I had been here that long," he continued. "I am sorry... I should've returned to rejoin you in the park."

"Och, dinnae worry about it, lad," the old warrior replied. "Bronx and I had a grand old time by ourselves. Isn't that right, boy?"

Bronx looked up and gave a short bark, then returned to sniffing about the base of the "VI" on the clockface, looking for the door he knew should have been there.

Goliath and Hudson both watched him, the same look in their eyes. The thin, wavy glass and wrought iron detailing was gone. In its place was with heavy, tinted safety glass in a clean, freshly painted steel framework. The Roman numerals making up the clockface, similarly, had been replaced with aluminum duplicates, and these were fastened to the outside of the metal framing, rather than being an integral part of it as the originals had been.

"This place has changed," Goliath commented, turning away as Bronx gave up his search for the door and sat down on the concrete, whimpering.

"Aye, that it has," Hudson agreed. He slapped his hand against his thigh, and Bronx bounded over for an ear scratching. "But then, everything changes, lad."

Goliath nodded, gazing again over the city. Between the clocktower and the Eyrie Building, the steel skeleton of a new highrise had risen from the surrounding cityscape to claim a piece of the skyline. A crane perched upon its top promised it would soon grow higher, another monolith symbol of progress cast in concrete and steel. Yet the Eyrie Building still dominated the horizon, with Castle Wyvern as its crown. Goliath stared at it, fixated. The castle, a structure juxtaposed in place and time, but their home once again.

"Some things have changed for the better," he said at length, "but others have..." he trailed off, searching for the words, "become more complicated," he said at last.

Hudson smiled. "Aye. Like with Brooklyn and his family... but 'tis good to hear the laughter of hatchlings again."

"Yes," Goliath said edgily. "That is true... but that is not what I really..."

"And soon there'll be a rookery again, too," Hudson continued wistfully. "The first egg for our clan in a thousand years will be your daughter's."

Goliath's brow ridges went up at that, and an odd look crossed his face for a moment. "Yes, I suppose you are right," he said at length. "But what I meant to say was..." he floundered for the words.

Hudson nodded his understanding anyway. "Lad, the two of ye had a fight. It happens to every couple now and then. 'Tis not like you two have nae had disagreements before."

The big gargoyle gave a growling sigh. "Elisa and I have had disagreements before... but this one was not the others. She has questioned a decision I made as the leader of this clan... and now I can not help but wonder if she is right. Maybe it was wrong to risk so much to restore Demona her memories."

Hudson nodded thoughtfully. "So did ye apologize to her, lad?" he asked a moment later.

Goliath's head rose up. "Apologize?"

The elder gargoyle sighed, running a hand over his face. "Och, lad, ye mean ye didn't make amends with the lass?"

Goliath turned to his mentor again, a determined look set on his face. "She said she would come by the castle before sunrise... I will... apologize to her then."

Hudson gave a small smile. "Then perhaps we best be getting home."

Goliath took one more look at the concrete, glass, and steel around him. "Yes, old friend," he replied simply, "I think you are right."

* * *

Matt Bluestone glanced up as he climbed out of his partner's Fairlane, and did a double take.

"What?" Elisa asked, craning her head up, too, as she came around the front of the car. A pair of winged shapes soared away from the clocktower, a third form slung between them. Elisa's brow furrowed.

"Think they're checking up on you?" Matt asked.

Elisa's brow furrowed deeper.

"What's up, detectives?" The amicable voice of Jerry Pearson chimed in, and the reporter joined them in looking skyward just as the gargoyle shapes vanished into the inky blackness of the night.

Matt rubbed his hand across the back of his neck as if he had been merely stretching. "Just the usual, Jerry."

"Yeah," Elisa agreed, shaking her head and brushing a hand over her hair. "Robbery, assault and battery. Same old song."

Jerry nodded, flipping to a clean page on his little notepad. "Anything good? Any more muggers with pointed ears?" He was smiling.

Elisa was not.

"Uh, we've got some paperwork to do," Matt said, guiding Elisa by the shoulder toward the steps. "Why don't you check with the desk sergeant?"

"I was just in there, but thanks anyway," the reporter called after them. He shook his head and tucked his untouched notepad back into his pocket, sparing one more quick glance skyward before heading off down the street.

* * * * *

Bronx barked anxiously, clambering to be let down as Goliath and Hudson landed in the courtyard.

"Easy, boy. What's the big rush?" Hudson asked as Bronx scrambled away, sniffing the ground and then the air intently. He howled, then rushed toward the doors and pushed into the castle. Hudson and Goliath exchanged curious glances, then followed quickly after the blue beast.

* * *

Broadway trailed his fingers gently over Angela's brow ridges, and the lavender female made a contented noise and snuggled against him as they locked eyes. Taking his hands in hers, she leaned forward to deliver a kiss.

Just as their lips met, there was a noise in the hall beyond the door. They both looked up sharply as the library doors burst open. Bronx scrambled in, panting, and ran towards them, looking for a moment like he was going to leap up onto the sofa with them. Instead, he halted abruptly when he was just a few feet away and sat down, staring at Broadway intently.

Goliath and Hudson appeared in the door a few seconds later, and Angela and Broadway scooted to opposite ends of the couch as the clan leader and elder entered the room.

"Good morning, Father," Angela greeted. She brushed back a stray lock of hair self-consciously, tucking it behind her ear, and her hand darted impulsively to the Celtic hair ornament over her left temple, checking to make sure it was still secure.

"Good morning, daughter," Goliath returned levelly, surveying the two.

"What's gotten into Bronx?" Broadway asked quickly, getting up from the sofa. He held out his hand to pat the beast on the head, but Bronx ducked away and sniffed cautiously. Broadway backed off, his brow knotting in puzzlement.

"I dinnae know, lad," Hudson answered as Angela rose from the couch as well and took Broadway's arm.

Goliath frowned, then his eyes widened as he noticed the bandage on Broadway's neck. "Broadway," he asked, "how did you become injured?"

Broadway looked at him for a moment. "Oh, you mean this?" he asked, indicating the bandage. "It's nothing serious. We ran into some Halflings during patrol and one of them bit me."

"Halflings?" Goliath growled. "Where?"

"Near Times Square," Broadway said. "They came out of nowhere and attacked us... but we showed them." He ground his fist against his palm.

Angela gave a worried smile at her intended's bravado, which didn't go unnoticed by Goliath or Hudson.

"There was some other trouble tonight, too," Angela volunteered. "Tony Dracon and the Yakuza."

Goliath's eyes narrowed. "It seems this night was not as quiet as we thought," he said to Hudson.

"Aye," replied the elder. He turned back to Broadway and Angela "Perhaps ye and the others'd best tell us all about it," he said. "But could we do it over dinner." He looked at Goliath. "I dinnae know about you, but I am famished."

Goliath nodded. "That sounds like a good idea." The small group of gargoyles left the library to round up the rest of the clan, Bronx trailing after them.

* * * * *

"Good work, Morgan. You, too, O'Malley." Captain Chavez closed the folder and handed it back to the former of the two uniformed officers. "Leave the report in my box when you finish it."

"Yes, Ma'am," O'Malley replied, but Chavez had already moved off.

"Bluestone, Maza," she said, leaning over and planting her hands on their adjoining desks.

"Yes, Captain?" they chorused as they lowered folders and looked up.

"I need you both to pull a double shift tomorrow night," she announced, not explaining more.

"Sure thing," Matt replied automatically, earning a glare from Elisa that did not go unnoticed by the Captain. Chavez looked at Elisa hard.

"What about you, Maza?" she asked. "You're not planning any long trips again, are you?"

Elisa groaned inside. "No," she answered. "I'll be here."

* * * * *

"And then we came back here," Angela concluded as she deposited the last of the glasses and silverware into the dishwasher. She looked to Sata. "Did I forget anything?"

Sata thought for a moment. "No, Angela-chan. That was an excellent summary." The two females looked to the clan leader, awaiting his response.

Goliath frowned. "I see," he said at length. "It seems we will have to keep a closer eye on Tony Dracon and the Yakuza. I think it would be wise to contact our allies in the Labyrinth, and enlist their aid."

Sata nodded. "We have already spoken to Sharon."

"She sounded a bit surprised to hear that we ran into some of Tommy Kimura's foot soldiers," Angela added. "She said he's been lying low ever since the trial."

"I wonder if Dracon realizes the size of the hornet's nest he's stirred up," Brooklyn commented, speaking up at last as he turned off the tap and dried his hands on a towel. "The turf war he had with Brod was bad enough."

Sata nodded her head. "I think Dracon knew exactly what he was doing. He wasn't there to steal weapons. He was there to send a message to the Yakuza."

"If so, he sure picked a bad time to stir up more trouble," Angela said.

"Agreed," Goliath replied.

"Yeah, I guess no one told him he had to take a number and get in line behind Madoc," Brooklyn quipped.

Sata looked at him oddly for a moment. "We will just have to remain vigilant," she said simply, "and deal with each threat as it presents itself, whether it comes from Dracon, the Yakuza, or the Unseelie Court."

* * * * *

Elisa brushed her hair back from her eyes and deposited another bulging folder atop the foot-high stack in her "out" box. She gave a small smile, noticing that the stack heading "out" was finally taller than the stack in the adjacent "in" box.

Matt returned with two fresh cups of coffee and set one of them down in front of his partner. "Congratulations," he said. "Now all we've got left is the reports on the call we took tonight." He flopped back into his own chair, surveying the papers blanketing his own desk.

"Don't remind me," Elisa said. She picked up her mug and took a long sip, leaning back in her chair for a few seconds of relaxation.

"I'm almost glad we didn't catch Dracon," Matt added as he sorted through the blank forms. Elisa sat up and looked at him. "We'd have twice as much paperwork to do," he explained.

Elisa nodded and smiled, then took another sip and leaned back again. Her eyes drifted up to the clock.

"Oh, man!" she exclaimed, sitting up abruptly again. She set the coffee cup on the desk roughly, and a bit of the dark liquid splashed over the rim and spilled onto the blotter. Elisa didn't notice; she was already up and at the window.

She gazed out at the reddening horizon, and slapped her fist angrily on the sill.

"Elisa?" Matt questioned as he came up beside her.

"I told Goliath I'd come by the castle before sunrise," she said softly, still staring through the glass.

"You talked to him tonight?" Matt sounded surprised.

"He came by my apartment before I left to come in," she admitted.

Matt was quiet for a moment. "Why don't you call him?" he suggested, looking out the window over her shoulder. "Looks like you've still got a few minutes."

Elisa said nothing, but turned and headed back to her desk. Moving aside the papers, she reached for her phone.

* * * * *

Goliath stared moodily over the city as the sky began to redden in the east. On the parapets below the tower, the rest of the clan took their perches, Angela holding Broadway's hand as he climbed up beside her despite his continued protests that he was perfectly fine. Goliath started to climb up on his perch when he heard someone ascending the steps behind him.

"Elisa?" he asked hopefully as he turned. His expression sank in disappointment when Owen appeared from the stairwell.

"Good morning to you, as well, Goliath," the blond man said crisply. He held out his open cellular phone to the big gargoyle. "You have a phone call from Detective Maza."

Goliath took the tiny device quickly yet gingerly. "Hello? Elisa?" he asked.

"Hey there, big guy. I got tied up at work," Elisa's voice responded tiredly. "I'm sorry I couldn't make it over like I promised. Matt and I got bogged down in paperwork and..." She gave a weary sigh. "I really had wanted to stop by. I'd come over tonight if I could, but I just found out I have to work the evening shift and..."

"It is all right, Elisa," Goliath interrupted. "You do not need to apologize." He paused, looking up at Owen, who was watching dispassionately. "It is I who should be doing the apologizing, to you," he said finally.

For a moment, there was only silence from the other end of the line. The sky behind Goliath began to brighten more with the imminent sunrise.

"Elisa?" he asked.

"I'm here," she responded quietly. "Look, I've got to pull a double shift tomorrow night, but I've got the next night off. I'll come over and we can find someplace quiet and talk, okay?"

"Yes, Elisa," Goliath replied as he climbed up onto his perch, still holding the phone. "I would like that."

"I'll see you then, Goliath," she replied.

The sun broke over the horizon, and a crackling sound as he turned to stone was his reply. Owen deftly snatched his cellular phone back before it could be frozen in Goliath's stone hand for the entire day. He lifted it to his own ear just in time to hear the click as Elisa hung up.

Slipping the phone back into his pocket, Owen Burnett turned and headed back down the tower stairs.

* * * * *

A steady, distant beeping tugged at the back of Demona's consciousness, rousing her from her slumber. She raised her head up, her neck aching from using an open book as a pillow for the third time in as many nights. She pushed herself to her feet and staggered groggily down the hall to the bedroom. The unattended alarm clock assailed her ears as she entered. She climbed onto the untouched bed to give it a swat, bringing an end to its monotone droning.

Still sitting on the bed, she stretched wearily and yawned, trying to work out the painful crick in her neck and shoulders as she forced away the momentary urge to crawl under the covers and spend the whole day there. She looked down at her human hands and sighed. She had found it easier and easier as of late to simply sleep through her daily transformations... at least there was one thing good about being completely and totally exhausted all the time.

Yawning again, she stood up and headed for the bathroom.

* * * * *

"You ready to go, Bluestone?"

Matt and Elisa both looked up. "Sara. Hi," Matt said, seeming a bit startled.

"'Hi'?" Detective Jasper asked, crossing her arms. "You didn't forget, did you?"

"No, of course not," Matt replied as he stood up. "We were going to... have breakfast?" he guessed.

Sara rolled her eyes and cast a glance at Elisa that made the other woman cover her mouth to hide a snicker. "Close enough, Bluestone," she said. "Come on, let's go."

Matt set down his pen and picked up his coat. "Guess I'll see you tonight, partner," he told Elisa as he moved past her desk.

Elisa turned back to her work, sighing lightly. "Have fun," she said flatly.

Sara stopped and looked at Elisa worriedly, and traded a glance with Matt. She turned back around. "Would you like to join us, Elisa?" she invited.

Elisa turned in her chair and looked up at the two of them. "No," she said after a moment. "I'm fine. You two go on."

Sara was about to say something more but Matt gave her a look that told her she should let it go. "Okay," she said. "Goodbye, Elisa."

Elisa didn't acknowledge their departure; she had already buried herself back in her work. Matt and Sara walked together out of the Bullpen.

"Only one thing can cause that degree of dedication to paperwork," Sara said softly once they were out of earshot.

Matt raised an eyebrow. "And what's that?" he asked, curious.

"Guy troubles," Sara answered.

"She and Goliath had a fight," Matt acknowledged as they continued down the hall.

"It must have been a big one," Sara replied. "Any idea what it was about?"

Matt shrugged as he opened the door and let Sara out onto the precinct's front steps. "No clue," he said as he followed her. "But I think she's finally got him ready to apologize. Score one more for female kind," he added wryly.

Sara smiled as they reached the sidewalk and Matt fell in beside her. "That makes the score what now, about six billion to zero?" She ducked away from a playful punch on the arm and turned the move into an artful hailing of a cab. A yellow vehicle pulled to the curb, and both detectives were chuckling as they climbed in.

* * * * *

Captain Chavez turned out the light in her office and closed the door, and took one last look over the squad room before turning to go. She shook her head at the sight of a familiar form still hunched over her desk, her red jacket hanging on the back of her chair.

"Maza, go home," Chavez said lightly as she stepped up beside Elisa.

The dark-haired woman looked up, from her computer monitor, blinking bloodshot eyes. "Is that an order, Captain?" she asked, stifling a yawn.

"Yes, it is," Chavez replied, putting her hand on the back of Elisa's chair. "Go home and get some sleep. I need you at a hundred percent when you come back in tonight." She picked up Elisa's jacket off the back of the chair and handed it to her. Elisa looked at it reluctantly for a moment, then reached over and shut down her computer.

Captain Maria Chavez and Detective Elisa Maza walked out together.

* * * * *

Lennox Macduff checked his watch and stepped to the side as a teenaged intern hurried past with a flat cardboard box filled with plastic-wrapped sandwiches and cans of soda.

"Blast it," he muttered to himself. "Excuse me," he said aloud, stepping into the flow of foot traffic and blocking the way of the very next person who attempted to pass. An auburn-haired woman in a pale yellow jumpsuit stopped and looked up at him irritably, shifting the camera case she was lugging from her left hand to her right. "Would you by any chance know where Ms. St. John is?" he asked, mustering all the pleasantness he could.

The woman frowned. "No," she replied quickly. "Now if you'll excuse us -" She sidestepped and moved past him, her small entourage - a short, bespectacled woman in a frumpy sweater and skirt and a tall man with a sharply pointed nose - following close behind.

Lennox spun as they passed. "Thank you ever so much for your time," he called after them, sarcasm dripping from his words.

"Perfesser MacDonald?" a scratchy voice asked. Lennox turned, taking in the lanky stagehand in the oversized tie-dyed shirt who had just addressed him... the same young man who had told him to "wait right here, dude" over a half hour ago.

"For the fifth time, it's 'Macduff,' you blistering idiot!" he bellowed, drawing the attention of some of the nearby technicians. Lennox took a cleansing breath. "What is it?"

It seemed to take a moment from the words to travel from the young man's brain to his mouth. "Oh yeah, they've been, like, ready for you up in studio three for fifteen minutes... I've been paging you, dude -" Lennox glared at the boy as sudden insight replaced the glazed, blank look in his eyes. "Oops," he said, "sorry about that. I apologize profusely for my most heinous error."

Lennox sighed. "Just show me to the studio," he replied.

The young man nodded, his hair falling in front of his eyes. "Right this way, dude," he said, gesturing.

"And one other thing," Macduff added, his voice lowering, sending shivers down the teenage stagehand's back, "Stop calling me 'dude'."

* * *

"I hope we can get this over and done with quickly," Macduff groused as he slid into the armchair opposite that of the smartly dressed reporter, Nicole St. John. He looked about the small set, decorated to resemble a cozy living room on three sides, and open to the cameras on the fourth.

"Fifteen, twenty minutes max, Professor," Nicole assured him. She turned her attention back to the aide who was leaning over her, checking the microphone fastened to her lapel. "Is, um," she flicked her eyes to Macduff, "our other guest here yet?" she asked.

"Didn't Frank tell you? Her people called over an hour ago. I believe the exact response was 'go to-' "

"Nikki, we're ready," the producer hollered from across the studio, holding up his arm and tapping his watch with his finger. Nicole acknowledged him with a nod. "And remember, people, we're live today... no second takes," he added as the technicians and makeup artists scurried off the set.

Macduff's eyebrows raised up and he spun in his seat toward Nicole. "Live? You never mentioned anything about..."

The producer shouted out over the din. "And we're go in five... four..." The studio went quiet as he finished off the countdown on his fingers, then pointed at St. John to begin.

* * * * *

Candice strolled past, arms full of freshly-bound reports, and stopped in her tracks as she passed Lydia's desk.

"Lydia, what do you think you're doing?" she asked incredulously, seeing the tiny portable television propped up next to the other secretary's computer monitor.

"Shh!" Lydia chastised, turning up the sound just a little. "I heard through the grapevine that they're gonna have one of the boss's ex-hubbies on today. This should be really juicy." She twiddled with the set's antenna, almost drooling.

"Good morning, I'm Nicole St. John, coming to you with a very special live edition of Eye to Eye," spoke the blonde-haired woman on the screen. "With me is Dr. Lennox Macduff, Professor of Medieval Studies at Columbia University. Good morning, Dr. Macduff. It's a pleasure to have you on the show today."

Lydia's eyes focussed in on the screen as the camera angle switched. "Ooh... that is one of the dragon lady's ex-husbands?" she questioned aloud.

"Good morning, Ms. St. John," the gray-bearded man on the screen said. "I'm glad to be here."

"Mmm... he sounds dreamy," Lydia purred, resting her chin on her hands.

Candice rolled her eyes and adjusted her grip on the stack of folders in her arms. "It's your funeral if Ms. Destine sees you with that... so don't say I didn't warn you," she said as she hurried away.

* * *

Dominique set aside her papers and rubbed her temples, sighing with frustration. She checked her watch, and her mood brightened a shade as she spun over to her computer and hurriedly booted up a program. "Come on," she muttered, urging the whirring processor on. Suddenly, the screen came to life, and Dominique adjusted the tone knob on her computer's speakers and clicked the mouse to enlarge her newly appeared TV window to full-screen size.

"...I'm glad to be here," an accented voice she would recognize anywhere was saying.

"Oh, I'll bet you are," she said, grinning smugly at the image of Macbeth on the screen. She reached across the desk, picking two pieces of paper off the top of the high stack of neglected paperwork filling her in-box. One was the invitation from Nicole St. John of WVRN, dated a week earlier, asking her to appear on Eye to Eye today to discuss "women in the business world." The other was a memo from her public relations head, received that morning and marked "URGENT," advising her that her ex-husband was scheduled to appear on the same program, supposedly to speak on "the relevance of Shakespeare in the modern age."

Dominique could only guess what topic Ms. St. John really had planned -- and she wanted no part of it. Still, she was interested in hearing what Macbeth might have to say... and besides, it'd be fun to watch him squirm. A broad smile crossed her face as she crumpled the letter and the memo together into a tight ball, then took aim and sent it sailing across the room. It hit the wall and rebounded into the wastepaper basket by the door as Ms. Destine returned to her TV watching.

* * * * *

"Meow?" Cagney protested as Elisa tugged at the sheets he was curled upon. He held his ground resolutely, letting himself slide along the mattress until his mistress placed her hands on her hips and glared at him.

"C'mon, cat. It's my bed," she stated as he reached down and plucked him from the covers. She held him against her chest a moment, keeping him constrained with one arm as she finished pulling down the sheets, until he began kicking and twisting his body, indicating his desire to be put back down. When she didn't oblige, he curled his hind claws into the flannel of her nightshirt and pushed himself onto her shoulder.

"Hey!" she exclaimed, ducking down as the sharp, tiny points of his toenails penetrated the fabric and poked her skin. Cagney leapt off at her cry, alighting gracefully on the top of the dresser while sending the TV remote clattering to the floor.

The TV sprang to life obligatorily as the remote's batteries rolled across the carpet. Elisa brushed her still-damp hair out of her eyes and sighed deeply, turning to glare at her cat again. Cagney sat smugly on the dresser, his back to her, thoroughly engrossed now in licking his paw.

Elisa muttered incoherently to herself as she stooped down to recover the remote and its batteries. Resurfacing a moment later, she flopped down onto the edge of the bed and fumbled with the device, jamming the tiny batteries back into their place and forcing the lid closed again. Finally, she looked up at the television, remote poised to click it back off. Instead, she froze.

"Macbeth?" she said, seeing the image on the screen. She turned up the volume.

"...from Scotland originally, but I make my home in the States now," the voice said.

The camera switched to an attractive blonde in professional dress. Elisa involuntarily made a face. "Ugh. Who's the genius who gave her a talk show?" she asked aloud. Cagney had no answer, but joined her in staring intently at the bright screen from his perch on the dresser.

"You also lived in France for a while, too, am I correct?" Nicole asked sweetly.

Elisa made another face; she could see where this was heading. "I hope she doesn't go there..."

"Yes, I did," he replied non-committally.

Nicole nodded, then cut straight to the chase. "Tell me," she said, "how did you first come to meet Dominique Destine?"

"She went there," Elisa muttered, rolling her eyes.

Macbeth shifted in his chair. "It's a rather long story..."

Elisa gave a wry smile. "Now there's the understatement of the millenium." She yawned involuntarily, then realized once again that she was sitting on the edge of a very comfortable and very inviting looking bed.

With another yawn, she clicked off the TV and crawled fully onto the bed. She drew the covers up around her, and in less than a minute she was fast asleep.

* * * * *

"Um, excuse me..."

Lydia looked up from the TV, startled, and took in the young woman who stood before her desk.

"I'm looking for Ms. Destine," the newcomer stated. "I'm Andrea Calhoun... a friend of hers," she added.

Lydia's face brightened. "Oh yeah, I've heard her talking about you," she said, twirling a lock of her long curly hair in her fingers.

Andrea blushed slightly. Lydia's eyes strayed back to her television. Andrea couldn't help but follow her gaze.

"What's that?" she asked, curious.

"Some new talk show." She turned the screen so Andrea could see it too. "Mmm... just look at him," she said, indicating the figure of Macbeth on the screen. "What a hunk... and that voice..." Lydia slipped off into her own little zone again.

Andrea watched for several seconds, then shrugged. "He's all right if you like that type," she replied. "She's a total airhead, though."

Lydia nodded, not really listening. After a few more seconds, Andrea moved off toward Candice's desk.

"And cut... we've got commercials. Ninety seconds, people!" the producer shouted. Nicole St. John's horde of makeup artists were back on the set and swarming over her within seconds.

"Just what the devil do you think you are doing?" Professor Macduff demanded without preamble. "I came here to talk about Shakespeare, not to share the intimate details of my personal life with the entire city!"

Nicole looked at him oddly. "I only give the public what they want to know." She shooed the makeup people away before adding, "Would you rather I ask about gargoyles instead? I imagine what you could say on that subject would be just as intriguing."

Macduff gave her a hard stare. "Madam, you have raised 'yellow journalism' to an artform," he said, rising from his chair. Without him giving even a second glance back, St. John heard him say "Good day" as he confidently strode out of the studio.

Nicole gaped, open-mouthed. "Dr. Macduff, wait... you can't just..."

The camera operators looked to Frank as the commercial break's final seconds ticked away. The producer shrugged back at them. "It's this or dead air," he said. "We're back in five, four, three..."

* * * * *

"I said Good day!"

The sound of the tie-tack microphone bouncing on the floor reverberated through the television's speaker. The cameras captured only a short glimpse of movement as Macduff disappeared out the door.

The cameras returned to Nicole. She hesitated for just the briefest of moments, straightening back up in her chair and composing herself before continuing. "That was Professor Lennox Macduff of Columbia University... evidently there were some issues he still has yet to work out regarding his short-lived marriage to Dominique Destine. Well, we still have fifteen minutes left... let's take a caller."

"Hello, um, this is Lydia. I just wanted to ask... hey, where did he go?"

Dominique looked up from the research notes she had returned to during the commercial, her attention snapping back to the TV. Why did that caller's voice sound so familiar? Suddenly, recognition dawned. The red-haired executive shot up from her chair and stormed toward the door, papers scattering behind her.

* * *

The door to Ms. Destine's office flew open, sending a gust of air across the room that ruffled the papers spread across Candice's desk. Candice and the brown-haired young woman who had just approached to talk to her both looked up.

"Dominique!" Andrea Calhoun greeted, stepping towards her friend with a smile on her face.

Dominique halted, no more than two steps out the door, as the familiar voice called out her name. She caught a glimpse out of the corner of her eye of Lydia at the far side of the room, still talking on the telephone.

"Andrea! Hello," she returned, turning to her as the hint of a grin played on her features. She blinked in surprise, surveying the young woman's appearance and attire. Her hair had been cut and styled in a neat pageboy, and she wore a pale blue suit dress and matching heels. Small gold studs accented her ears, with a small crystal pendant being her only other piece of jewelry. "My," Dominique commented, "that's a new look for you... I like it," she added, nodding approvingly.

Andrea blushed slightly. "Well, you did give me the tips... and I thought since you said that we were going to go someplace nice today..." She fussed with the hem of her skirt a moment as Dominique returned a smile. Andrea looked back up. "Just don't expect me to make a habit of it," she added, mock-warningly.

Dominique gave a small chuckle. "Of course not," she replied. Her eyes darted over Andrea's shoulder to Lydia once more. The secretary had hung up the phone and was readying to depart for lunch, with Candice now approaching her.

"So are you ready?" Andrea questioned, bouncing eagerly on the balls of her feet.

Dominique's attention returned to her friend. "Just let me get my purse," she said. She retreated into her office, turning off the TV viewer on her computer without giving the program another thought. She gathered the papers back up from the floor, putting the pages back in order, and opened the desk drawer for her purse. She paused, staring at the mass of paper in her hand, and sighed. Shouldering her purse, she jammed the whole stack into the top of the shredder and went to join Andrea.

* * * * *

"Thank you for watching. For WVRN and Eye to Eye, I'm Nicole St. John."

"And we're clear," Frank said, giving the "cut" signal with his arm. "That's a wrap, people... good show." He patted a cameraman on the back as the technicians began clearing equipment from the room.

Nicole sat in her chair, drumming her fingers on the armrest.

"Another stellar impression made, I see, Nikki," Frank commented as he approached the set. "Maybe next time you won't lay on Macduff as much."

"Such a clever wit - you should write for the late show," she returned, then sighed. "I didn't really care about him anyway... it's Destine I wanted the chance to talk to. And I thought for sure that the info we leaked to her press agent about Macduff being here would've gotten her attention."

"From the phone call I got this morning from her secretary, I'd say it did that," Frank replied.

Nicole scowled. "I've tried every other way I can think of to get that woman to do an interview, but ever since the Tattler published that photo of her precious daughter, she's had her secretary running interference for her. But I was sure even she couldn't resist a chance to embarrass an ex-husband on live TV."

"Face it, Nikki," Frank said, chuckling. "It's a sad fact for us TV folks, but some people in this world still have good taste."

Nicole stared icily at him. "I'm not laughing, Frank. She marries this Macduff character just before sunset, and he files for the annulment by noon the next day. Her next husband allegedly goes missing, leaving her millions, yet we never see a photo of him to confirm that he even existed. Not to mention how she and her company appeared almost out of nowhere just around the same time? Or how after two years of turning down every charity you can name, she makes a personal appearance at a PIT meeting and cuts them a check for ten grand right on the spot? Or how she is never seen at night... or how her daughter is sighted just about as often as Halley's Comet? No-ho-ho, Frank... there's something weird going on with that woman... something hokey just like with Maddox. And I'm gonna find out what."

* * * * *

"Blast." Macbeth looked out the window of the cab, at the motionless traffic, and then down at his watch again. "Blast, blast, blast!" he repeated, his voice growing louder with each successive utterance of the word. He stared at the slowly climbing digital numbers on the taxi meter and fumed. A moment later, he dug into his pocket with one hand and rapped on the plexiglass partition with the other.

The cabbie turned around, an annoyed scowl on his face. "Look, mac, the traffic ain't movin' any faster than it was the last six times youse asked."

"I'll walk from here," Macbeth stated, thrusting a twenty through the small opening. He was out the door and headed for the sidewalk before the disagreeable driver could even offer to make change. He looked back down the street and clenched his fists in frustration. The building that housed the WVRN studios was still within sight, and his destination was still over a dozen blocks away. Grumbling, he began walking a hurried pace, pressing his way through the crowd of other pedestrians.

* * * * *

"Would madam care for some more water?" the waiter asked haughtily, holding the crystal pitcher high as if it were a trophy he had just won.

Dr. Joanna Walker glared up at him. The breadstick she held in her hands snapped, sending tiny crumbs flying. "No," she said calmly. "And yes, I'm going to keep waiting," she added, heading off the question before he could ask it again.

"Very well, madam," he replied, moving off.

"Lennox Macduff, I'm gonna..." she mumbled to herself. The remaining halves of the breadstick disintegrated into a fine powder under her iron grip.

* * *

"...so I said, 'Of course I'll do the show.' I mean, it'd be totally stupid of me to pass up something like that, right?" Andrea picked up her water glass and took a sip, waiting for her friend's reply. "Dominique?"

The redheaded executive looked up from her chef's salad. "Hmm? Oh, yes, definitely," she said, nodding.

Andrea looked at her for a moment. "You didn't hear a word I just said, did you?" she asked, nearly laughing.

Dominique's eyes dropped. "Andrea, I'm sorry..."

"You are way too wound up today," the younger woman commented. "What's wrong?"

"Dominique? Hello?" Andrea waved her hand in front of her friend's face.

Dominique blinked, then blushed. "I'm sorry... I guess I'm just preoccupied with work. And I haven't been getting that much sleep lately," she added, grateful to be able to tell the truth about something.

"It sounds like you need a vacation," Andrea suggested.

"No time," Dominique replied. "I've too much going on right now... and I don't know how long it'll be before that changes." She poked her fork clumsily at a radish at the bottom of her salad bowl. "So tell me about this show you were talking about," she prompted.

Andrea swallowed what she was chewing and scooted her chair in a little closer. "The Steinberger Gallery is doing an exhibit of nothing but artwork dealing with gargoyles. Paintings, sculptures, everything - they're setting aside a whole wing -- no pun intended."

Dominique smiled anyway, and Andrea blushed slightly before continuing. "Anyway, they've got artists from all over the country contributing - Los Angeles, Dallas, Rochester, I think they even said something about someone from Oklahoma City. And I've been asked to display some of my work, too! Isn't that great?"

"That's wonderful!" Dominique agreed. "I'm very happy for you."

Andrea beamed. "I still don't know how they found out about me," she said. "That art fair last month was the first time I'd displayed any of my stuff outside of the little shows PIT runs every once in a while."

Dominique smiled. "All it takes is one person with an eye for good art."

Andrea nodded, blushing again. As Dominique took a sip from her water glass, Andrea absently fingered the crystal pendant she wore. The prismatic sparkling of the light off it caught Dominique's eye.

"That's an interesting necklace you have there," she commented, gesturing subtly to the pendant as she returned her glass to the table.

Andrea laughed. "Oh, this little thing?" She held the crystal up on its slender gold chain, letting it dangle and spin. "It's my lucky charm." She grinned, a bit embarrassed. "I got it last month, just before I met you. This teenage boy traded it to me for one of my gargoyle sketches. He said that as long as I kept it with me, it would bring me good fortune. It was my only 'sale' all day, but the next day, you came along." She smiled broadly.

Dominique returned the smile, nodding, but felt a growing uneasiness in her stomach. "Surely that was just a coincidence," she said half-heartedly.

Andrea shook her head vehemently. "That's what I thought at first," she said. "I never had went in for all that New Age mumbo-jumbo." She leaned forward, lowering her voice to near a whisper. "But I tell you, Dominique, I think it's really working. I've been sleeping better... feeling more energetic and more creative. And the day I got it back from the jeweler after having it put on this chain, I got the call about the art show." She sat back comfortably in her seat again. "It can't all be just coincidence."

Dominique nodded again, numbly. She stared at the pendant as it rested against Andrea's chest. It sparkled in the light once more, reflecting the rainbow for a split second. "I don't think I've ever seen a crystal quite like that before," Dominique commented.

"Really?" Andrea replied, picking it up in her fingers again. "I think it's just quartz... it's really nothing much."

Dominique leaned closer to inspect it. "May I?" she asked softly. Andrea nodded and allowed her friend to touch it, their fingers brushing as Dominique took it into her palm. The older woman's green eyes sparkled almost imperceptibly as the crystal touched her skin. She gave a small gasp and looked up, finding Andrea staring at her intently from less than a foot away. Dominique released the pendant and sat back in her chair again, reaching hurriedly for another sip of water.

"Dominique?" the younger woman questioned.

The older woman gulped down a mouthful of water, nearly sputtering. "It's a very lovely necklace," she replied finally, once she could again muster the air to speak.

Andrea looked at her friend worriedly. "Maybe you need a lucky charm of your own," she said after a moment.

Dominique pushed aside her unease and managed a small, ironic smile. "I make my own luck," she stated wryly.

The waiter arrived with the desert tray as Andrea replied with a soft chuckle.

* * *

"May I help you, Monsieur?" The maitre d' stepped behind his podium and greeted the tall, gray-bearded man who had just pushed past the half dozen others waiting in line just inside the doors.

"Macduff," the man replied quickly, his eyes darting over the crowded dining room. "I have a reservation."

"Oui, Monsieur," the tuxedoed man replied dully, running a finger down the list of names penned in the book in front of him. His finger stopped on a name, and he looked back up. "I'm terribly sorry, Monsieur," he replied, not sounding the least bit sorry. "Your reservation was for noon, and we are very busy today. Ze table has already been given to someone else."

"Never mind that," Macbeth replied, his eyes snapping back to the man, seemingly threatening to bore holes through him. "Have you seen the woman who was supposed to meet me here? Blonde, about this tall?" He gestured with his hand.

"Oui, Monsieur. She left just a few minutes ago. She seemed most upset..."

Macbeth didn't hear the rest. He was already back out the door.

* * * * *

"I'll talk to you soon, Andrea," Dominique said as she stepped out of the limousine.

"Are you sure this is no trouble? I could just catch a cab," Andrea said, scooting over in the seat toward the open door.

"No, it's no trouble at all," Dominique replied over the noise of the traffic. "Gregory will take you back home - I don't need the car this afternoon anyway."

Andrea smiled. "Thanks! I'll call you later... if that's okay."

Dominique smiled back. "Of course." She checked her watch quickly. "Ugh, I have to run now or I'm going to be late. Goodbye, Andrea."

"Goodbye, and thanks for lunch," Andrea called after her friend as she hurried off toward the Nightstone Building. Sighing contentedly, the young woman sank back into the soft leather seat as the driver closed the door. With the sounds of traffic again shut out, the soothing tones of classical music coming through the car's speakers met her ears. She smoothed her jacket and skirt and then closed her eyes, listening. As the car pulled away from the curb, the fingers of her right hand came to rest on the pendant lying upon her chest.

* * *

"Ugh!" Lydia cried disgustedly. She clicked madly on her mouse for a moment, then returned to staring blankly at the gray checkerboard pattern on the monitor, moving the mouse around and clicking every few seconds. She didn't hear the elevator chime, or notice Dominique walk up behind her.

"I'm glad to see you're practicing," Ms. Destine said calmly. Lydia whirled in her chair and stared up in shock at the red-haired executive. "I hear there's always new openings in the field of undersea ordnance disposal."

Candice barely hid her grin as she approached her boss and her desperate-looking coworker. "Are you ready to go, Ms. Destine? We're going to be late if we don't leave soon," she interrupted.

"Why don't you go get your car and I'll meet you downstairs, Candice?" Dominique suggested, turning to her.

"Sure, Ms. Destine," she replied, trying hard not to laugh as Lydia gave her a "HELP ME!" look behind Dominique's back.

"I'll be there in a few minutes," Dominique said. She turned back to Lydia. "Just as soon as I straighten out a few things here."

Candice nodded and adjusted her purse on her shoulder. Lydia watched her enviously as she headed for the elevator.

"Now then, Lydia," Ms. Destine began again, "Let's see what we can do about finding something productive for you to do."

* * * * *

A light smattering of applause filled the auditorium as Preston Vogel retook the podium. "Thank you, Dr. Sato," he said flatly, as if reading from cue cards, although none were present. "And now, I'd like to present the Secretary and Treasurer from the Xanatos-Reynard Foundation to Aid the Homeless to give the introduction of today's final speaker. Ladies and gentleman, Mr. Owen Burnett."

Vogel departed the podium as a man nearly identical to him in appearance but for the color of his hair and his suit stepped into his place.

"Thank you, Mr. Vogel," Owen said crisply into the microphone. He paused a moment, then continued. "Today's final speaker is a graduate of…"

* * *

David Xanatos shifted in his third row seat and tried to remain attentive. The fingers of his left hand drummed softly on the armrest, while his right hand held his chin, the elbow propped on the other armrest. He flicked a quick glance to his right, at his wife. Fox had the little fold-out desktop built into the arm of the chair raised up and a yellow legal pad resting on it, in which she was jotting down notes as she had been the whole afternoon. He smiled at the quaint reminder that they were in an auditorium whose main use was as a college lecture hall, watching Fox for a moment. Then he winced as another cramp went up his leg, and shifted in the thinly padded seat again, making a mental note to make sure they found a more audience-friendly venue for the next Halcyon Renard Memorial Symposium, even if he had to build it himself.

* * *

"... Dr. Daniel Goldblum."

The applause caught David slightly off guard. He straightened in his seat immediately and added the clapping of his pair of hands to those of the rest of the room, as Dr. Goldblum walked up onto the stage and shook hands with Owen.

"Thank you, thank you," he said as he took the microphone, literally - becoming the first person all afternoon to remove the device from its stand and stroll about the stage with it. "If we could dim the lights, I'd like to start things off with a short film..."

* * *

Fox lay down her pen and flipped the pages on the legal pad back, comparing the little cartoon gargoyle she had doodled during Dr. Sato's presentation to the ones she had drawn the previous day during the latest Cyberbiotics board meeting. As the house lights went down, she sighed and gazed over at her husband.

* * *

Xanatos watched with mild interest as the film began. It was all old news to him - tales of cloning tadpoles and sheep that, while fascinating to most members of the audience, were nothing compared to what he already knew was possible. Maybe next year, he mused to himself, instead of Dr. Goldblum, he'd ask Fox to consider having the clones themselves as guest speakers. The sheer craziness of the thought put a sly grin on his face, and he turned to her ready to share it with her.

He wasn't expecting her to already be looking at him, staring at him intently with her blue eyes. It startled him, and he didn't speak... yet she read his quirky smile instantly and returned with one of her own.